Ma Vhenan
by Mrbeavis19
Summary: Hawke is the Champion of Kirkwall, well respected and liked, in love with a beautiful elven mage...and carrying a dark passenger from his past. How long can two exist as one? How long can he control the darkness within? M!Hawke/Merrill
1. BEST PROLOGUE EVAR!

Okay, so I typed this up mostly for my cousin. He hasn't played Dragon Age, but wants to read this story, so I made him this super-useful PROLOGUE! I started typing and thought it would be more fun to read if I littered it with "Sentence Enhancers". My cousin and I share an odd sense of humor, you see. I'm sure he'll get a laugh out of this, but if you're averse to "Sentence Enhancers", I suggest you just not read this PROLOGUE!

If you do decide to read this, know that it is really nothing like my regular writing style. I wrote it this way because I thought it was funny. That's about it.

Ma Vhenan itself was taken much more seriously when I wrote it, so it's nowhere near as possibly offensive as this PROLOGUE!

Why do I keep writing PROLOGUE! Cause it's funny dammit! Now you gonna read this shit, or be on your merry way to the actual story?

* * *

><p>DA2 Noob's guide to Ma Vhenan<p>

SHIT YOU SHOULD KNOW:

Hawke is the main motherfuckin character. He's too cool to go by his first name. He's also from Ferldan. How cool is that shit?

7 years ago, Fereldan's very own apocalypse, otherwise know as the BLIGHT, fucked mad shit up and Hawke and his family had to gtfo. On the way, they meet Manface!...uhhh, I mean Aveline. She's got a motherfuckin shovel chin and is more jacked than her husband, who's a Templar. Templars hunt mages. Bethany, Hawke's little sister is a fuckin mage. When Wesley, Manface's wife, I mean husband, brings up the Templar-mage shit, Hawke gets pissed. Wesley gets hit by a Darkspawn and gets infected and dies quick as shit.

Darkspawn are fuckin zombie demon things from the Deep Roads! DWARVES LIVE THERE!

So they're walkin along with Manface and Hawke's younger brother Carver gets his ass stomped by an ogre. Hawke and company go apeshit and kill that mofo, but Carver dies. Aww sad.

THEN, Hawke, Manface, Mom, and Bethany make their way to Kirkwall. MOM USED TO LIVE THERE! They get into the city and shit and work for a year or something to pay off a fuckin debt cause Mom's brother, Uncle Scumbag formerly known as Gamlen, lost Gramma and Grampa's estate on a bet. Then Hawke wants to go on an expedition to the DEEP ROADS! Small angry bearded man says "NOOOO!" Small angry bearded man's brother Varric says "YOOOO!"

VARRIC IS THE MAN! He and Hawke are bffls 4eva. They go to Sundermount. ELVES LIVE THERE! They meet Merrill. She's cute! She's a blood mage. THAT'S BAD! But she's good so it's cool.

Then you find ANDERS. HE'S GAY! All he does is whine about how poorly mages are treated. I LEAVE HIM IN HIS CLINIC!  
>Then you find Isabela. TITS! She's a PIRATE WHORE!<p>

Then you find Angstfag, I mean FENRIS! He's an elven former slave to some mage so obviously, it's reasonable for him to DESPISE ALL MAGES! He sucks almost as bad as ANDERS. I LEAVE HIM IN HIS ABANDONED MANSION!  
>Then they go on the expedition! But Hawke leaves Bethany behind to stay with Mom cause SHIT'S DANGEROUS in the DEEP ROADS! Small angry bearded man, Bartrand (the fuck kinda name is that?), goes all nuts when they find this idol thing. Motherfucker leaves Varric and Hawke for dead! They get out though.<p>

But Bethany got taken by Templars! She goes to the Circle. MAGES LIVE THERE!

3 YEARS GO BY!

HAWKE'S RICH CAUSE DEEP ROADS AND STUFF! He has a MANSION! Bodahn is his chill as fuck butler. SANDAL! is his retarded son who enchants shit like a fuckin boss.

HAWKE HAS SEX WITH MERRILL!

BITCH! I mean Meredith, is the leader of the Templars in Kirkwall. I hate her. Therefore, Hawke hates her. She oppresses mages and shit. Orsino is chill as fuck. He's the head of the Circle or something.

Then you got the Qunari. Big gargoyle-lookin motherfuckers. They have an ARISHOK. He's this big scary Qunari that leads them. The townspeople don't like the Qunari. They've stayed in Kirkwall TOO LONG!

The Qunari are after a fuckin book. Isabela stole the book. You get the book back and tell her you're gonna give it to the Qunari to avoid war cause she's a SELFISH BITCH! She takes off. Hawke kills the ARISHOK in a duel.

HAWKE'S A MOTHERFUCKIN HERO!

3 YEARS GO BY! ...AGAIN!

Hawke's the fucking CHAMPION OF KIRKWALL! Meredith sends him to hunt down Apostate(free) mages.

AND THAT'S WHERE MY FUCKING STORY STARTS!

I hope this was helpful to you in your understanding of this story. Thank you.


	2. Chapter 1

As Hawke left the Hanged Man he couldn't help but wonder what would become of Emile. The boy was harmless. Meredith was sure to disagree, but Hawke couldn't care less what Meredith thought. Now, onto the alienage and the final name on Hawke's list of rogue mages to track down. Huon. Meredith's tranquil, had told him Huon had a wife in the alienage, so he figured he'd start there. After hearing Nyssa's story, Hawke couldn't help but feel sympathetic for the poor woman. His usual facade of sarcasm and light-heartedness he maintained to keep his companions' spirits up gave way. He sincerely promised Nyssa he'd be back later to make sure she was safe and to try and talk some sense into Huon.

Hawke looked toward the horizon through the smog that filled the air in Lowtown. The sky burned an orange-red. Sundown was approaching. He turned to Varric and Fenris. "Meet me back here ohhh let's say an hour or so past sundown. Hopefully this crazy apostate won't have raised an army of undead to conquer the city by then." "As you wish." Fenris replied before turning and walking off towards Hightown. Varric simply chuckled and said "I'll be in the Hanged Man if you need me." That left Merrill. She turned and smiled at Hawke. "Come on. While we're here I've got something I want to show you." She grabbed his hand and pulled him towards her old house. Hawke didn't like that she spent so much time here. He felt as if there was something he was doing wrong. 3 years they'd been together and she still didn't feel at home with him in Hightown. All she'd moved into his mansion was a lily in a vase she left on the desk in the bedroom and some clothes.

He knew it was the mirror that drew her back here. Her people's history and culture she hoped to unlock with this ancient relic. He could understand that lure. Regaining things you'd lost. Carver. Mother. He'd go to the ends of the world if he thought it might bring them back. But he knew better. They were gone and for all his might and skill, he couldn't bring them back. Merrill, however, had a chance. She could uncover the mysteries within this mirror. He believed in her. He loved her, how could he not? He was only worried for her safety. Between blood magic and the demon she first spoke with to begin work on the mirror, Hawke couldn't help thinking that all of this was bound to end badly. He was there as a safety net though. As long as he drew breath, he would allow no harm to come to his Merrill.

"Look!" Merrill said with that adorable accent of hers. Hawke loved her accent. The Eluvian stood tall in the corner of her bedroom. Hawke hadn't seen it in a few weeks. He'd been so busy with politics and entertaining all the nobles so intent on the "Champion of Kirkwall" attending their parties. He'd grown rather sick of it all. Bunch of snobs rubbing their gold in each other's faces as far as he was concerned. He hadn't had much time to spend coming to the alienage with Merrill as he would have liked. Even though it usually just meant him sitting around making sarcastic comments about how the mirror was evil and how disappointed Marethari would be. That usually got a giggle or two from Merrill. He noticed the surface of the mirror was still rough, but far less cracked than it had been. He also saw how polished the engraved wooden tendrils that reached up and encircled the mirror were. It looked quite nice to be honest.

"Wow that looks great. Would look even better in the study don't you think?"

Merrill's smile faded. "Hawke...you know I can't do that. I can't put you and Bodahn and Sandal at risk like that. Whatever would I do if something awful came of it? Remember what I told you about Tamlen? I can't let that happen to any of you."

The concern in her eyes pulled at Hawke's heart. "I know. It's just that I'd rather you be there so I can keep an eye on you. So I can keep you safe. Who's going to protect you if this thing goes bad while you're here? I might not be here. I'd never know in time. Merrill I couldn't live with that. I can't lose you too."

Hawke's head fell, staring at the dirt floor.

Merrill drew close and put her arms around Hawke's neck and rested her head on his chest. He pulled her in and laid his cheek on her head. "You will never lose me Ma Vhenan. You will never lose me."

Hawke grinned and pulled his head back looking into his love's beautiful green eyes. "You've never told me what that means."

Merrill thought for a second. "No, I suppose I haven't. I'm so sorry! I hope you haven't been thinking I've been calling you a bad name or something. I would never do that."

Hawke just smiled at her. He loved it when she rambled like this. She was so adorable when she was flustered.

She stopped and smiled back. "It means 'my heart'. The reason I live. My life. My love." She pulled him tighter into her embrace. Hawke turned his head and put his lips to hers. His arms wrapped all the way around her. He held her as close as he could. She was on her tiptoes, her body pressed against his, locked in a passionate embrace.

She could feel his muscles ripple through his shirt as he lifted her off her feet. She giggled and wrapped her legs around his waist. He backed towards the bed, still holding her up. Her mouth locked to his. As he sat on the corner of the bed, she pushed aside the paintings she'd left there. He sat straight, holding her close as she kneeled over him, caressing his face. She played with his beard a little then playfully shoved him onto his back. He grabbed her hands and pulled her down with him. His fingers intertwined with hers as she pushed his arms up over his head and lowered her lips to his. He brought his arms down and wrapped them around her hips as he rolled to his side, bringing her down next to him.

His arms came up her back. He began searching blindly for the laces on the back of the thin mail she wore. He could never find them. She reared her head and giggled at him before guiding his hands to the laces. As he slowly untied them, she reached for the lace on the front of his shirt, loosening it playfully. They slid out of their clothes and under the covers. Bodies held together tightly by the bonds of love.

Merrill still made Hawke's heart race.

Their relationship had only blossomed since that night 3 years ago. He still remembered the nervous look on her face when she came through the door. To be honest, he had been nervous too. She never would have known though. He'd maintained his mask of calm and cool.

Now, as they lay in each other's arms, they felt belonging, purpose, love. Neither ever felt more comfortable, more safe than when they were together. Hawke still remembered the time they investigated the disappearance of those Templar recruits.

He'd almost been killed by that blood mage in the Blooming Rose. He didn't know what had come over him, but she'd gotten inside his head somehow. A shadow creeping in around the edges of his vision. Clouding his mind like a choking smog. Oppressive in every sense. He'd never felt so vulnerable. He was a warrior. He dealt in physical battle. This though. His mind was in a blender. Going in a million directions at once. Then, just when the darkness was about to swallow him...clarity. A piercing light punched through and obliterated the shadow. Merrill. In that moment he felt her. Her mind. Her soul. She guarded his mind with her own. Redirected the magic into a physical wave. And like that Hawke was free. Free to drive his blade into that treacherous witch's gut.

But that moment. That intervention. He'd felt a connection. He was no expert on magic, but he'd felt something more. A warmth. Somewhere back there. He knew she felt it too. That was love. He didn't know then, but its meaning became apparent a few short days later. He felt it again that night. And he felt it now. The warmth that bound them.

They lay beneath the covers, exhausted, gazing into each other's eyes. "Your eyes are so pretty Hawke." Merrill cooed.

Hawke laughed "Well, I'd use something a little more masculine than 'pretty' but thank you Merrill."

"They're like a bolt of lightning. I've never seen that shade of blue in anyone's eyes before." she continued.

Hawke smiled at her. "And yours are as deep and beautiful a green as the Brecillian Forest."

Merrill closed her eyes and smiled, remembering the forest and all the beautiful life within it. "Ma Vhenan" Merrill said quietly as she fell asleep in Hawke's arms. He kissed her forehead and stared at her lovingly as he too fell into a deep sleep.

...blissfully ignorant to the horrible act they would witness later that very night.


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Hawke awoke with a start, violently jolted from sleep.

Something was wrong.

He sat up and looked to his side. Merrill lay safely beside him, curled up beneath the covers. Kitten. Huh. Now that he thought of it, Isabella chose a pretty good nickname for Merrill. She was so adorable when she slept, more so than usual. She was so innocent. He'd say naiive, but he knew better. She was just sheltered. A product of a different set of traditions and heritage.

But there was still the matter of what was wrong. He ran through the day in his head. Had he forgotten to pay his tab at the Hanged Man? No, he hadn't been there in weeks except to check in with Varric occasionally. Did he forget to leave a grocery list for Bodahn? He had a nice dinner planned for later in the week with Merrill and he wanted to make sure everything was right. No, he was pretty sure he'd taken care of that. Hmmm. Did he forget to lock his bedroom door before he left? He hated when Sandal got in there and started enchanting things while Bodahn was away. Just the other night, he went to put on a pair underwear and quickly regretted it. He felt as if he were standing outside naked during a Fereldan winter. Little bugger must have gotten into his undergarment drawer again. He had to give Sandal points for creativity though; he was certainly not expecting that.

What was wrong?

...Nyssa.

Was it after nightfall already? Shit! Hawke sprang out of bed and ran into the main room of the hovel. Looking through the high windows above the fireplace, Hawke could see glistening stars highlighting the night sky. The moon was about a quarter of the way on its journey across the sky, so he figured it was only a few hours past sun down. But still, he had no time to waste. He ran back to the bedroom to get Merrill.

"Merrill. Merrill, wake up. We have to go." Hawke said quietly as he knelt next to the bed, stroking her cheek. She smiled and brought her hand up to hold his. She opened her eyes and looked into Hawke's. At that moment, he wished they didn't have anywhere to go or anything to do because he wanted nothing more than to just get back in bed and spend the remainder of the night with Merrill. But they had to check on Nyssa.

"Merrill we have to go. I made a promise earlier that I intend to keep. And if I spend another minute here looking at you curled up in bed like that, I won't be able to leave."

"Nyssa!" Merrill yelled as she realized what promise Hawke was talking about. She sat up and realized she was still naked. She let out an embarrassed yelp and pulled the blankets up to cover herself. Hawke would have laughed, but there were matters of far graver importance than Merrill's endearing, but unnecessary modesty. Hawke picked up his things and left the room. Merrill ran out seconds later, fully dressed and ready to go.

Hawke had pulled on his armor and hefted his sword into its sheath on his back. "Shall we?"

Hawke walked over and opened the door, Merrill close behind him. He could see the stalls. And a set of silhouettes behind them. It appeared Huon had showed up after all. Hawke stepped out the door and started walking towards the pair. Huon was holding Nyssa close to him, whispering something in her ear. Hawke couldn't make it out. He was about to call out to them when...

A flash of steel glinted in the darkness. The next few seconds felt like hours. Huon thrust the blade forward. Hawke was close enough to see the shock on Nyssa's face. The sorrow in her eyes. Killed by the man she loved. Or the monster he'd become. He saw the life drain from her eyes. The sharp inhale of her last breath. And he could do nothing. Huon laid her on the ground, the wooden handle of the blade protruding from her abdomen. A pool of blood forming around her body.

Varric and Fenris came around the corner and down the stairs into the alienage. Hawke stepped closer. Huon turned to face him. Drenched in his wife's blood.

And his eyes. His eyes were hollow. Devoid of emotion. He had been consumed by his dark obsession. His blood magic. And the only thing Hawke could think of at this point was Merrill. Could this happen to her? What would he do if it did? Was he only hurting her by allowing her to continue on the path she was on? Could she really control this?

"Her blood will bring new life to our people." Huon said coldly. He just stood there. Smiling. He'd killed his wife. And he was smiling.

"Shut the fuck up." Hawke growled. "You're going to pay for this. You're going to pay for what you did to her!" Hawke pulled out his sword. He was seeing red. Huon was not going to leave this place alive. He would never hurt anyone else again.

Dark energy swirled around Huon. As it orbited around him, Nyssa's blood was pulled up into it. Circulating around him. Spattering his clothes and face.

Hawke charged.

Huon called forth a group of Shades. Channeling all his rage into each blow, Hawke tore into one of them, cutting it in half. Another advanced toward him. He ducked, bringing the hilt of his sword up over his head. He spun and stood as he did so, extending the blade and using the extra momentum to deliver a killing blow to the Shade's midsection. Now it was Huon's turn to face his wrath. He was only about 15 feet from Huon now and the mage knew it.

Fenris and Varric were holding off another group of shades. Fenris leaped forward and came down, slashing one of the mage's drones diagonally across the torso. Varric finished it off with a bolt to the face. At least, what looked like its face. Suddenly an eruption of fiery energy burst up behind Fenris, blocking him from Varric's view. When the flames cleared a second later, a Rage Demon stood, about to strike. Just as Fenris drove his blade through the last Shade, he felt a heavy blow upon his back, knocking him to the ground. He turned and saw the demon lurking towards him. He tried to jump back up, but he suddenly felt a sharp pain in his back. The creature had left a searing gash across his back. He roared in pain and anger as he fought to stand. The demon was about to strike again, when a bolt burst through its arm, severing it, shortly followed by five more shots to the back, killing the demon. Fenris managed to stand, but he was in no condition to fight. Varric helped him up and went to try and find a guard. Anyone to help.

Merrill shot a bolt of fire from the end of her staff. It connected squarely with the shade that was approaching her, scorching the rags around its head and halting its advance as it tried to put out the flames. Merrill took the opportunity and struck the blade of her staff into the ground, extending the slash into a thin wave of fire that shot towards her enemy and sliced the shade right down the middle. Another came up behind her, but she had sensed it there seconds before. She drew the blade from the ground and spun around, quickly delivering two slashes to the shade's face and arm as it tried to strike her, blinding and crippling the monster. It shrieked and glided backwards, but it didn't get far before being smashed by a huge chunk of stone Merrill had conjured from the earth beneath her feet and promptly hurled at the shade, finishing it off.

Hawke brought his blade up over his head and leaped through the air, about to deliver a killing blow to Huon. He came down almost on top of the mage and heard his sword clash into the sandstone of the ground beneath him. Had he hit Huon that hard that he'd gone right through him? He hadn't even felt it. He looked up and saw nothing. Just his sword and the ground. No Huon, dead or otherwise. Shit. He hated it when mages knew that trick. He turned and stood, waiting for Huon to pop up somewhere. He looked to Fenris and Varric. Fenris looked injured, but he was tougher than he looked, he'd survive. He looked to Merrill. A shade was gliding towards her, unnoticed as she finished off another with a boulder to the chest. It was almost upon her.

"Merrill!" Hawke shouted. She turned and saw the shade's arm coming right at her. It was about to make contact when she disappeared. She materialized into the ground and traveled through it, re-appearing at Hawke's side. Well, he thought to himself. Maybe that trick wasn't so bad. Then he saw him. Huon stood near the Venehdahl. His arms were raised as he prepared to cast a spell. Hawke tried to move, but his legs were locked in place. "Shit." He said as he looked down. A swirling vortex of dark energy circled around Merrill and his feet. An aching pain started to creep up his legs like a vine, slowly intensifying. He looked to Merrill. She was trapped as well, a look of terror on her face. She looked like she was about to say something, but suddenly the pain shot through each of their bodies. Hawke felt as if his skin was being peeled off. Merrill. She was screaming. And there was nothing he could do. Helpless.

His love only a few feet from him…in agony…and he couldn't do anything. No. It was his turn to save her. Mustering all his will, he began to reach down towards his sword by his feet. With every inch, it felt as if his bones were breaking. The agony only intensified as he got closer. He looked up at Huon, arms still in the air. Lifeless eyes staring directly at Hawke. But the look on his face had changed. That evil grin had been replaced by…fear? Hawke fought harder. Finally, he reached the sword. He might as well have tried to lift the Venehdahl. He felt so weak. Merrill screamed in agony.

"_I can't lose you too."_

Hawke's voice resounded in his head. He'd told Merrill that. Carver, Mother…Nyssa. He'd failed them. He would not fail Merrill too. That was a promise he would die before he broke.

Hawke roared. There was this darkness within him. It had taken over when he saw Carver die. It gave him the strength to slay the Ogre. He went to a dark place. All he knew was rage in those moments. And when mother died. He tore that bastard who killed her to pieces. It had taken over then as well. He saw nothing but his blade, slashing those monsters to ribbons. Felt nothing but rage. Heard only the cries of pain of his enemies. Smelled nothing but their blood.

The lights went out. His vision narrowed. All he saw was his sword. The pain was gone, at least…he didn't feel it anymore. He stood, sword in hand and began to walk towards Huon. The mage had exhausted himself. The blood of his wife had only been a temporary boost to his power and like a fool, he spent it all on those initial attacks. Hawke stood before him, bleeding and bruised. The mage sliced his own arm and raised his staff to fire an attack at Hawke, but he was no longer there. He looked to his side right in time to catch the hilt of Hawke's sword in his face. He reeled backwards, disoriented and swung the bladed end of his staff at his attacker. Hawke caught it like a twig. Huon tried to pull it away, but Hawke tore it from his grip and hurled it across the alienage. Huon stumbled backwards. He was terrified of this human who simply refused to die. Hawke closed in and delivered a crushing punch to Huon's face. The sharp knuckles of Hawke's gauntlets tore into Huon's cheek, leaving three deep slashes along with a broken cheek bone. Huon fell to one knee. Hawke stood over him and raised his sword. Huon spun around and drove his dagger into Hawke's arm as it came down. The blade lodged itself in Hawke's left bicep.

He felt nothing.

Hawke's knee came up, connecting with Huon's chin, knocking him onto his back. He lifted his right hand as he tried to cast a spell at Hawke. A last ditch effort to fend of this attack. Before Huon even saw it, Hawke's sword cleaved through his wrist, severing his hand. He stared in terror as it fell to the ground beside him. He looked up into Hawke's eyes as he raised his sword. He saw nothing. The darkness was in control. Hawke's only emotion was rage and it was painted all over his face. Soaked in Huon's blood, he sneered at the fallen blood mage. Huon grinned maliciously at Hawke. "You're no better than me. You're a monster. Just like-"

"I AM NOTHING LIKE YOU!" Hawke roared as he drove his blade through Huon's sternum.

The life drained from Huon. His outstretched arm went limp as his grin faded.

Hawke came out of it. There was a knife in his arm. That hurt…a lot. His sword was in Huon's chest. That bastard got what he deserved. Merrill was…

"Merrill!" Hawke spun around and saw Merrill lying on the ground by the merchant stalls. He ran over to her. He came to her side and fell on his knees, cradling her head in his arms. He put his ear to her chest. She was breathing. Thank The Maker. He looked up and saw Varric coming down the stairs into the alienage.

"Awww did I miss all the-" He stopped when Merrill came into sight. "Oh Daisy. No." He came to Hawke's side.

"She's still breathing. We need to get her to Anders." Hawke said, deeply concerned for her.

"Fenris should see him as well. As much as he'll complain, that gash on his back is pretty nasty and I don't think any regular doctor is equipped for that kind of wound. I left him with a guard near the stairs into Lowtown." Varric said.

Hawke lifted Merrill. "Alright, let's go."

"_You will never lose me Ma Vhenan__. You will never lose me."_


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Thud. Thud. Thud.

Anders got out of bed and started towards the door of his clinic. Who could that be this late at night?

He opened the door to find Hawke, carrying Merrill in his arms, one of which had a dagger in it and was bleeding profusely, and Varric helping Fenris, who looked to be seriously injured by the grimace on his face as he limped to the door.

"By The Maker Hawke! What happened?" Anders bewilderedly asked.

"Bit of a tousle." Hawke sarcastically replied as he set Merrill down on one of the cots.

Varric helped Fenris over to a nearby cot and sat him down. "I'm sure Blondie will have you fixed up in no time."

"That better be all he does." Fenris stated coldly.

Varric just chuckled. "You're an ass."

Hawke pulled Anders aside. "I need you to take a look at Merrill. We were attacked by a blood mage and held in this field of...entropic energy or something. I blacked out and next thing I know I'm standing over him with my sword through his chest. Merrill was unconscious when I ran over to her. I just need to know she's alright."

"So I'm assuming it was that mage that put that dagger in your arm?" Anders said with a concerned look on his face.

"Yeah, he did that, but please, Merril-"

"You know I should really take a minute to look at that. It's blee-"

Before Anders could finish his sentence, Hawke tore the knife out of his arm and hurled it across the room, sticking it into one of the support beams. Anders just stared at Hawke who stood unflinching.

"Anders, please."

He turned and went over to tend to Merrill. She had small cuts and bruises from the fight, but nothing serious physically. She was still unconscious, but she was breathing. Hawke bandaged his arm with a rag he found on top of a barrel and went over and sat by her side. He reached out and took her hand. He brought it to his lips and kissed it. All he could do now was be here.

Anders went to work. His hands began to glow blue as he held them above Merrill, scanning for injuries or whatever the hell it was he was doing. Hawke's knee kept bouncing up and down. He couldn't sit still. His hands were clutched together in front of his mouth, supporting his head. He was worried. Anders looked up.

"It'll be you I need to take a look at if you keep that up. Why don't you take a walk?"

"No." Hawke said curtly. "I'm not leaving her."

"Your choice." Anders said with a shrug.

After a while, Anders stopped and looked up at Hawke with a smile. "She'll be fine. No permanent damage...well, physically at least. I can't speak for her mental state until she wakes up. That mage did a number on you both. He was trying to pull you both into the fade and tear you apart there. It was your mind that was fighting back. Merrill should be okay considering her training as a mage and previous experience with the fade. But, you never know, so it's best to take it slow and keep an eye on her until she wakes up. As for you...well, frankly Hawke, I'm surprised you survived."

"So was Huon." Hawke interjected with a pleased smile, recalling the shocked look on the blood mage's face as he reached his sword.

"Yes, honestly, you should have died. I'm not sure how you resisted. Now, you said you blacked out and then what? Just woke up, standing over his corpse?" Anders questioned.

Hawke thought for a minute. "Yeah, that's about all I remember. I remember, I reached my sword, but couldn't find the strength to lift it, then I heard...I heard Merrill crying out in pain. I thought of mother and Carver. How I'd failed them. And I just couldn't bear to think of losing Merrill too. Then everything went red and when I came out of it, Huon was dead."

Anders looked at him for a second. "What did it feel like? When you came out of it?"

"Like I'd just awoken from sleep, but I wasn't rested, I felt exhausted. I still feel exhausted."

"Hmmm." Anders pondered as he looked at Hawke.

"Gonna tell me what you're thinking, or are you just gonna stare?" Hawke said mockingly

"Well, I was thinking that perhaps your mind shut down to fend off the attack and...something else...took over." Anders said, snapped out of thought and back to the conversation.

"What would this 'something else' be?" Hawke asked?

"Honestly, I have no idea. Could be a spirit, another soul, basic instinct, any number of things." Anders pondered.

"Well, with your expert opinion on the subject, is there anything we can rule out?" Hawke said, looking down at Merrill.

Anders shook his head. "Unfortunately, no, I have no clue. It was much different for me with Justice and since I wasn't there, I wouldn't have seen the physical signs on you, so I just don't know. Might Varric or Fenris have seen anything?"

"No, they were gone. Varric had taken Fenris and gone to get help." Hawke paused and looked towards the two. "Speaking of which, looks like Fenris could use some attention."

Anders looked over at him. "Great, time to go get insulted while I mend the ungrateful bastard's wounds." He started towards the cot Fenris was perched upon.

Hawke smiled to himself and shook his head. His gaze returned to Merrill. He went and grabbed a bucket of water and a cloth. He sat by her side and started dabbing the cuts and bruises, washing away the blood and dirt. She seemed so fragile. He sighed and hung his head, thinking of Nyssa's lifeless body, laying there in a pool of her own blood. He'd failed her. Broken his promise. This weighed heavy on his conscious. If he hadn't fallen asleep with Merrill, Nyssa would still be alive. He could have stopped Huon before it was too late. He could have done...something, anything. But Merrill, she had survived. At least there was that. He'd see Nyssa given a proper burial once everyone was alright here.

Merrill stirred. Hawke, pulled from his thoughts, put a hand to her cheek and smiled. She opened her eyes, staring right into Hawke's. She sat up and threw her arms around him. "Hawke!" She exclaimed as she held him tight.

"Good to see you've awoken from your nap." Hawke said with a grin.

Merrill started to cry.

"Shhhh it's okay. Everything is fine Merrill, I'm here." Hawke said, comforting her.

"I remember Huon...and then...pain...I thought we were going to die. I thought you were dead. I thought I'd lost you."

"You will never lose me Ma Vhenan." Hawke said as he looked into her eyes.

Merrill, tears still fresh in her eyes, laughed and kissed him. "Never."

"I thought I'd lose you...and I just...I couldn't. I couldn't imagine life without you. I heard you scream and I lost it. Everything went red and next thing I remember, I'm standing over Huon with my sword through his chest." Hawke said.

Merrill pulled back and looked into Hawke's eyes, concern etched on her face. "What happened?"

"That's the thing, I don't remember. I just blacked out."

"Does Anders know why?"

"No, we just talked about it and he said he had no clue."

Merrill leaned her head back onto Hawke's chest. "Well, I'm here. We'll figure it out together."

Hawke smiled. He loved her. More than anything in the world. She was so sweet and sincere. He knew she meant every word she said. And her support meant everything.

"Well, I'm exhausted, what do you say we go home and get some sleep?" Hawke asked as he held Merrill close.

"Sleep sounds nice." Merrill replied.

They stood and, hand in hand, walked towards the door. Hawke stopped to check on Fenris on the way out. Anders assured Hawke he'd be fine. To which Fenris only gave a moody nod.

Varric said he'd stick around for a bit before returning to the Hanged Man.

Hawke said his goodbyes and left with Merrill. It didn't take them long to reach Hawke's estate. The path that took them from Darktown to Hightown felt like miles to Hawke with how tired he was, but the thought of his nice warm bed and nice warm Merrill kept him moving. They reached the door and Hawke was ready to collapse. Merrill giggled as he tried to open the door, missing the handle a few times.

"You weren't drinking while I was unconscious were you?" Merrill teased with a laugh.

Hawke finally opened the door and turned to her with a smirk, planting a kiss on her lips. They headed up the stairs and into the bedroom. Hawke unstrapped his armor and collapsed into bed. Merrill untied her chainmail let it fall to the floor. The tattoos on her body were beautiful. Hawke never failed to admire the beautiful artwork, or the exquisite canvas it decorated. Hawke smiled and pulled back the covers for her, wrapping his arm around her as she slipped beneath them. Hawke started kissing her neck lightly. She turned to meet his lips. She looked into his eyes and he into hers. The bright green of the forest and the deep blue of the ocean, but she saw something else there. Pain.

Merrill could read the pain in his eyes. She didn't need magic to know its cause. She'd seen it before. When his mother had been killed. She knew the cause this time. "It wasn't your fault."

"I should have been there quicker." He said.

"No. Hawke, there was nothing that could have been done and nothing we can do to change it now." Merrill consoled.

"I know…it's just hard to take failure when it means someone's life."

"You saved me." Merrill said.

Hawke smiled. "No, I just refused to lose another person I love."

"And you didn't. And you never will." Merrill reassured him.

She kissed him on the forehead and smiled as they both drifted peacefully into sleep.


	5. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Sunlight pierced the thin curtains covering the windows of Hawke's bedroom. He half-opened one eye, then pulled the covers over his head and turned over. He wasn't ready to get up yet. He'd been up late last night and he didn't want to leave the comfort of his bed. Just as he began to drift back into sleep, he heard the bedroom door creak open.

"Time to get up buddy." came a deep voice from across the room.

Hawke grunted and pulled the covers tighter over himself.

The voice let out a chuckle, much closer this time. "Alright come on now. Out of bed."

He could feel the covers being pulled off. The curtains being drawn, flooding the room with light. He looked up to see his father standing over him, smiling. "Good morning buddy."

It was 9:21 Dragon. Hawke was 12 years old. He let out a groan and got out of bed. He walked out of his room and to the kitchen table. He sat down and had to resist the urge to just fall asleep at the table. He was exhausted. He hated mornings. His mother brought a pot of porridge to the table. "Good morning." she said, kissing him on the head. Hawke grunted a little and let his head slouch onto the table. His father entered the room, followed by the twins. Bethany and Carver were arguing about something. They were always arguing about something.

Bethany ran over to her mother and started tugging at her dress. "Mom! Mom! Carver nailed my hair to the bedpost again!"

Carver ran over, clamoring for his mother's attention. "I did not! She's lying! She hid one of my toys and she won't give it back!"

"I did not! You lost it!"

"No, you stole it!"

"I did not!"

"Yes you did!"

"That's enough from both of you." Mother said sternly. "Carver, apologize to Bethany. And Bethany, if you didn't hide Carver's toy, then maybe you could help him look for it later? Now go sit down and eat breakfast."

"Sorry." Carver mumbled, looking at the floor and moping towards the table.

Bethany plopped down next to Hawke. "Good morning!" She yelled in his ear.

"Leave me alone." Hawke said, head still down on the table.

"Come on now honey, eat up before your porridge gets cold." his mother urged.

Hawke sighed and started to eat.

Carver, seated across the table from Hawke, looked up from his meal. "Mom! I already ate half of mine!"

"That's good dear, now finish the rest."

She looked up at Hawke. "Oh and honey, I'm going to need you to go pick up a few things for me at the market after breakfast."

"Alright." Hawke said almost enthusiastically. He could stop and hang out with his friends for a bit on his way to the market.

"Can I go too?" Bethany asked excitedly.

"Mom, she-" Hawke started, but his mother cut him off.

"Yes dear, you can go with your brother."

Hawke sighed. No point in arguing now. He finished his breakfast and went to get dressed.

When he returned, Bethany was standing by the door with Mother, all excited and ready to leave. Hawke was less enthusiastic, but still, he couldn't help but appreciate how much Bethany wanted to spend time with him. They'd always been close. She got on his nerves some times, but they rarely fought about anything. And when they did, it was forgiven and forgotten soon after. Carver was a different story. They just couldn't get along. They'd fight and argue over just about anything. Hawke saw Carver as the instigator and Carver, Hawke. One said something and the other would inevitably disagree, if for no other reason than the sake of argument.

Hawke was almost to the door when he heard his father call to him. He turned and walked over to the chair his father was sitting in by the fireplace. His father turned to him and said "Now, you remember what I told you about going into town with your sister?"

"She's a mage. Templars hunt mages. If one of them catches her, she'll be taken away. If I see one, we'll avoid them. If one confronts us, we run. If they catch us, I'll defend her." Hawke recited, touching the pocket knife on his belt with the last statement.

His father smiled and gave him a hug. "I might not always be around buddy. And when my time comes, it's up to you to protect the family, especially Bethany. It would tear your mother apart to have Bethany taken from her. Worse, she could be made tranquil. The Circle is corrupt. And Carver. I know you two don't get along very well, but he's your little brother and you need to look out for him."

"I know, dad." Hawke said. "Can I go?"

His father smiled and put a hand on his shoulder. "Be careful."

Hawke grinned and ran over to the door, hugged his mother goodbye, and left.

Hawke and Bethany had reached the village quickly. It wasn't a long walk from their house, but they had decided to race to the village. Hawke had won, with Bethany close behind the whole time.

"No fair, you're taller." Bethany said as they passed the gates into Lothering.

Hawke laughed and started toward the shop. "Come on."

Hawke opened the door. The spacious interior was filled with shelves, stocked with goods. It was lit by a simple chandelier hanging in the middle of the large room and the few windows on each wall. Hawke was overwhelmed by the smell of many different spices as he entered and approached the counter where Willard, the shopkeeper stood, absently staring out one of the windows. "Excuse me sir."

"Huh? Who? Oh! Young Hawke! How are your parents, lad? Haven't seen them in a while." Willard inquired.

"Oh they're well, thank you. Mother sent me to do some shopping." Hawke held up the list mother had given him.

"Ah and I see you've brought your sister. Hello young lady."

"Hello" Bethany said shyly, shifting behind Hawke.

Hawke handed Willard the list and he retreated to the back room, returning with a pack filled with the requested goods. Hawke thanked him and gave Willard the money mother had given him.

"Take care young Hawkes." Willard said as the siblings exited his shop.

As they exited the shop and began to walk across the bridge towards the town gate, Hawke saw a group of his friends playing tag over by the chantry. He turned to Bethany and handed her the pack. "Hang on, I'll be back in a minute."

Bethany took the pack and sat by the embankment, watching her brother run over to greet his friends.

Hawke was owed a copper he'd won from his friend Olan on a bet and he was in the middle of inquiring as to its whereabouts when he heard a scream behind him.

He turned to see three older boys standing around Bethany, tugging at the pack in her arms. She refused to let go and was rewarded with a kick to the side. She let out a yelp of pain, but still fought to maintain her grip. One of them grabbed her by the hair, but didn't get much further than that before having his face rammed into the stone embankment of the bridge. Hawke had cleared the twenty or so yards between himself and his sister in a matter of seconds. He was furious. The dumb one who'd pulled her hair lay on the ground with a broken nose, unconscious and missing a few teeth.

The remaining two were both at least half a foot taller than Hawke and around thirty pounds heavier, but he didn't care. One of them released the pack and charged towards Hawke. Hawke ducked his clumsy punch and delivered a precise uppercut to his midsection, knocking the wind out of him. He was younger and smaller, but Hawke could fight. That was the one thing he'd always been good at. The next boy tackled Hawke before he could turn to face him. He postured up and delivered a punch to Hawke's ribs, then a wild hook, connecting with his cheek. Hawke spun around and elbowed him in the face, catching his arm and twisting it as he threw the boy off of him, forcing his face into the dirt. He let go and punched the back of his head, smashing his face into the ground. But his friend had regained his breath by then and came and pulled Hawke off of him in a headlock. His grip was tight. Hawke's throat sat is the crook of the boy's elbow and he was starting to turn blue when the boy suddenly started screaming and released him. He fell to the ground and turned around to see the boy running towards the river, still screaming with his back aflame. Bethany sat by the embankment, glaring, hand outstretched. Hawke ran over, taking her hand with his and the pack in the other. They took off, running home.

They burst through the front door. They'd run the whole way. They didn't look back. They didn't stop for anything. They closed and locked the door and collapsed, panting heavily. Mother came over and knelt by them. "What happened? Are you two alright?" She noticed a bruise on Hawke's cheek. "Were you fighting again?"

"He protected me!" Bethany protested indignantly before Hawke could reply.

"Was it a Templar? Oh by the Maker we have-" She began.

Hawke stopped her. "No, just some older boys."

Relief fell over Mother's face. She reached out and took Bethany and Hawke, one in each arm and held them close. "Thank the Maker you're both safe. I should have gone with you. If it had been a Templar..." She trailed off and looked at Bethany, pulling them closer.

Father arrived home shortly after; Hawke and Bethany were playing outside as he came through the gate. He smiled as Bethany ran toward him, arms outstretched. She jumped up and wrapped her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly as he kissed the top of her head. Hawke came running behind, hugging his father as well. He and Bethany followed Father inside. His arrival meant dinner time and they were hungry. After dinner and small talk around the table, it was time for bed.

With the children off to their rooms, Leandra turned to Malcolm as they sat by the fire. "When I sent the kids shopping this morning, they got in to a fight."

"What happened?" Malcolm questioned, trying to conceal the worry in his voice.

"Well, I asked and Bethany said her brother protected her from some bullies." Leandra replied.

A smile brightened Malcolm's face. "He always will. He loves them both so much. And that's the way it should be, you look out for your family before anyone else." He said more to himself than Leandra.

She looked up at him. "But what happens when he gets outmatched? He's too headstrong to ask for help."

A thought crossed his mind. "He won't have to ask...Leandra, I'm going to my study...I need to see to something." He said as rose from his chair and started down the hall.

The door creaked open only enough for him to slip through before quickly closing and bolting it. The room was totally dark except for the slivers of moonlight shining through the big window behind his desk. The rays illuminated bits and pieces of the room: the large oak desk, legs carved like the talons of a hawk and the lantern that sat atop it, the walls, covered by bookshelves which housed tomes and manuals of all kinds, and the great cushioned chair behind the desk, similarly carved to match it. Malcolm proceeded across the room to his desk and took a seat. He didn't bother lighting the lantern...he wouldn't need it where he was going.

He closed his eyes, muttered a few words beneath his breath and entered The Fade.


	6. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Hawke opened his eyes. He looked around. His estate in Hightown. Merrill. He laid back and smiled. He'd dreamt of his father last night, of the house in Lothering. He felt almost as if he'd awoken there and had to make sure it was only a dream. He turned to Merrill, whose arms rested over his chest and behind his neck and legs intertwined with his and kissed her on the forehead. A smile came over her face as she was gently pulled from sleep to see her love watching over her. She tightened her embrace and kissed him.

"Good morning." She said with a small yawn and a stretch.

"It is isn't it?" Said Hawke with a grin. He loved waking next to her. He sat up and winced as he saw the bandage around his left bicep. It was covered in dried blood and had left a barely noticeable stain on the red sheets. He went to the bathroom and removed it and began to wash the wound. He'd placed a poultice on beneath the bandage to quicken the healing. He was pretty sure that the muscle had healed but it was sore as hell. The entry and exit wounds were still open though. Thinking about it now, perhaps he should have let Anders take a look at his arm. Without Merrill to worry about or the adrenaline that kept him going last night, the wound was quite an inconvenient pain. Merrill came into the bathroom. Her face paled a bit at the sight of Hawke's wound. She came over to him and placed a hand on his arm. He turned and looked her in the eye.

"I'll be fine." He said with a grin.

Merrill's eyes flared. "Would you stop acting so tough all the time!" Merrill yelled. Immediately after, she recoiled a bit, obviously as shocked by her outburst as Hawke, who stood with his mouth wide open, was.

"Merrill I-" Hawke started, but Merrill cut him off with a gentle finger on his lips.

Compassion filled her eyes as she looked into Hawke's. "You're not invincible Hawke." She paused. "Sometimes you have to let others help you."

Hawke looked down and noticed that Merrill's hands still rested around his bicep. She let them fall to her side, but in place of the ugly red gashes that had adorned his arm seconds ago, the skin was smooth and unbroken.  
>Merrill let a small smile cross her lips. "I'm not as good as Anders, but I do know a thing or two about healing."<p>

Hawke put his arms around her. "I'm sorry Merrill."

"Just promise you won't let your pride get in the way of your well-being." She said.

"I promise." Hawke said, leaning in with a kiss. "Now let's go see what kind of trouble we can get into today."

Merrill smirked and went back into the bedroom to dress.

Hawke cleaned out the bloodied water from the basin and replaced it before following Merrill to the bedroom. He entered the room to find Merrill sitting on the bed strapping on her leather greaves. _Damn she dresses quick._ She'd opted not to wear her mail beneath her emerald tabard; however, leaving much of her legs, back, and side uncovered...Hawke rather liked the look.

Noticing the mischievous smirk upon Hawke's face, Merill said rather matter-of-factly, "It's dreadfully hot outside today and I prefer not to cook in my armor."

"Won't hear me complaining." Hawke simply said before donning his own armor. He'd grown used to the heat. He loved the new look on Merrill though. He could see bits of the intricate elven tattoos that swirled across her body. Her timidity and modesty hadn't completely gone, but he could see that life in Kirkwall had changed the former forest-dweller ever so slightly. Strange how she still managed to maintain that air of innocence and cuteness. He loved it.

She caught him staring again and smirked at him. He let out a chuckle and finished strapping on his breastplate. "Can't help myself." he said with shrug, causing the mail shirt he wore to clang against his pauldrons and breastplate. "Suppose we should go see our best friend first today and tell her the good news." At Merrill's questioning look, Hawke clarified, "Meredith."

"Oh, you're joking again...why do I never catch that?" She said with a pout.

"I'm sure you'll catch on eventually." Hawke laughed.

Suited up for the day ahead of them, they left the estate and headed towards The Gallows. Hawke hated The Gallows. The area itself was nice enough…if you didn't mind the disturbing statues of the slaves that built the city and the behemoths that Hawke assumed must have been the slave drivers' deluded self image. And the bird statues. Even those managed to be looming monstrosities instead of the regal guardians they were probably meant to embody. The Templars that dotted the street corners made the area feel no friendlier. And the massive citadel of a prison that cast its shadow upon the district; the very building the mages were unfortunately forced to call home, just completed the overall oppressive feeling of The Gallows.

Hawke and Merrill approached the gates of the Templar compound. Hawke hated that he could simply pass through the gates with nothing but a nod from the Templar guards. He felt as if they thought him an ally, which was certainly not how he thought of it. He'd only taken the proposition from Meredith in the hopes that he could help those Mages. But two out of three dead wasn't an outcome that gave him any pleasure.

He entered Meredith's office without knocking. She was standing by her desk looking down at something when he entered. "It appears that both Evelina and Huon are dead. It seems, however, that we've heard nothing of Emile de Launcet." She said, turning to look at Hawke.

"I let him go." Hawke said simply, not shirking from the piercing glance that Meredith gave in return.

"You are a fool to think him innocent. Mages weave slippery lies to save themselves. None are innocent."

"And you are a fool to think them all guilty!" Hawker retorted with evident anger. "You would condemn them all! Why? What have they done to so wrong you? You tear them from their families, force them into captivity, and when they decide they've taken enough of your shit and try to escape, you label them a blood mage and hunt them down like animals without mercy. What would you do in their situation?" The veins in his neck bulged as he furiously recalled how twisted the mages he had to kill had become. Their humanity stripped from them because of their desperation. Because of the Templars. "I lay the blame for their actions at your feet! Had you not pushed them to the edge of their humanity, they never would have fallen into such desperation that they would kill for their freedom. Look at the Fereldan Circle. They're doing a far better job maintaining peace than you and do you know why? They're not a bunch of single minded fanatics! They see a middle ground for cooperation between Mages and Templars. Tense as it may be, it is manageable as far as a captive and captor relationship goes. The Templars there work _with_ the Mages, not against them. They strive for cooperation. But here? The only objective I've seen from you is to crush the Circle beneath your heel…and you wonder why they resent you? Don't you dare call me a fool." Hawke sneered at Meredith who stood across the desk from him with the same cold glare he'd seen after he took Orsino's side during the dispute in Hightown.

"You would do well to remember that your sister resides within the Circle. Should you give me reason, her life can become very difficult-" Meredith jumped as Hawke's gauntleted fist smashed into her desk, splitting the thick oak atop it.

"And you would do well not to incur my wrath. Should _any_ misfortune befall Bethany while she remains in the Circle, not even an army of your Templars could keep me from your throat." Hawke growled through clenched teeth. He pulled his fist from the desk and exited the room, leaving Meredith standing dumbstruck behind her desk.

As he stormed down the hallway past the two Templar guards who had apparently heard the noise and were now rushing towards Meredith's office, Merrill had to hurry to keep pace with his quick strides. As they exited the gates of the compound and passed the merchant stalls, Merrill caught up to him and put a hand on his shoulder. He slowed his steps and stopped, reaching out an arm to one of the pillars on his right to support himself. His breathing began to slow as he calmed himself. Merrill circled in front of him and gently pulled him around the corner and beneath the archways. Her hands cupped his face as she brought it level with hers and looked into his eyes. "I've never seen you so upset Hawke." She said as she brushed aside a lock of his hair and gently ran her hand down his cheek.

"Meredith went too far." Hawke said as he leaned back against the pillar behind him.

"She did, but you split the top of her desk." Merrill said, stepping closer to him with a concerned look.

Hawke grinned to himself. "Think she soiled herself?"

Merrill's eyes narrowed as she gave him a sly smile as she sarcastically replied. "I did smell something foul as we left her office."

"And the look on her face? Priceless." Hawke said, looking into her eyes and grinning wildly.

"It _was _a rather impressive display of strength the amount of damage you caused to that desk." Merrill said.

Hawke's smile faded a little. "I almost lost it though."

"If that wasn't losing it, then I think I'd like to see how you define that." Merrill said, still smiling.

Hawke's smile vanished entirely. "No…you wouldn't."

Pulling herself closer to him, Merrill whispered in his ear, "Nothing you could do would scare me away Hawke." She paused as she felt his arms slowly close around her waist. "I know you Hawke. You're a good man and I love you more than life itself." She put her forehead to his and gazed into his eyes. The tumultuous blue ocean had become calm once again.

Nothing put Hawke more at ease than Merrill. When it really mattered, she always knew exactly what was bothering him and what to say. She was his anchor, the one thing in his conflict-ridden life that kept him human…kept him sane. He brought a hand up and ran it through her soft raven black hair and kissed her. "And you are my life Ma Vhenan."

Merrill's hand never left Hawke's as they made their way towards the Hanged Man.


	7. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

The raucous din of the Hanged Man filled Hawke's ears as he stepped through the door. The bartender stood behind the counter, wiping out the heavy wooden mugs. He looked up to see Hawke, gave a small nod and returned to his mug. Hawke crossed the room, Merrill behind him, and dodged a flying mug as a fight broke out over by the fireplace. He looked in the direction of its source and noticed a Qunari looming by the fireplace like a gargoyle. Staring. He shrugged off the shiver that ran down his spine and continued towards the stairs to the back rooms, alert for any sudden movement.

After killing scores of them during the attack on Kirkwall and defeating their Arishok in single combat, he imagined they held no great love for him. Every time he saw one, he had to raise his guard. They revered him as a great warrior but the Qunari, as Hawke understood were quite fond of testing themselves in battle. He held no such grudge, but would not allow that to let him be taken by surprise.

He ascended the stairs, noticing how they refused to creak beneath Merrill's delicate step. He looked across the hall to see Varric sitting at the table in his room with a mug of ale in hand. He entered the room, tapping his steel-clad knuckles against the frame of the door.

"Oh Hawke, I was hoping you'd stop by." Varric said a bit distantly as if something weighed heavy on his mind.

"Getting bored drinking alone?" Hawke said, crossing to the other side of the table and pulling out a chair for Merrill before seating himself across from the dwarf.

"You remember that house in Hightown Bartrand barricaded himself in? Well, no point in keeping a house for a dead man." A subtle hint of pain struck Varric's voice and expression. Hawke might have missed it had he not known him so well. He knew Varric regretted his brother's fate. Bartrand was no saint, but the idol had driven him mad. Driven him to attempt to kill Hawke and Varric during the expedition. "I've been trying to get rid of the place for ages."

"I imagine the market for the homes of deranged killers is absolutely fantastic." Hawke said in an attempt to lighten Varric's mood.

"The creeps that are interested in that kind of stuff generally lack the coin to purchase such an estate. But, I did find a minor noble from Rivain who bought the place sight-unseen. Unfortunately..." Varric paused for a second, looking down and rubbing the back of his neck. "I've got a problem." With an expectant look from Hawke, Varric continued. "They say the place is...haunted."

"Well, sight-unseen, just be grateful their complaint wasn't about the corpses in the halls. Clean up like that is always such a mess."

Varric chuckled. "They've said there are some minor problems...apparitions, things moving on their own...voices in the walls. I'm hoping it's the idol. We go there, smash it, problem solved."

"I'm no expert on hauntings, but I kind of doubt simply smashing something will fix the problem."

"That's where I was hoping you could help. You come from a family with magic; you must be used to..." Varric struggled to find a word. "Weird." He continued, "So what do you say?"

A grin crept across Hawke's face and was returned by Varric. "When do I ever decline an adventure? Besides, not like I had much else to do today. What do you think Merrill?" Hawke asked, not wanting to leave her out of the decision.

"Sounds spooky...I'm in" Merrill said with a delightful smile.

"Thanks you two, I really appreciate it." Varric said.

"Well, let's not keep the ghosts waiting huh?" Hawke said, turning towards the door.

The trio left the Hanged Man, Hawke once again noticing the eyes of that Qunari upon him. They made their way through the streets to the Hightown market. Hawke looked around and noticed his "business partner" standing over by his stall, peddling his crap. Hawke tried to avoid him whenever possible. Besides just hating Hubert's accent, it seemed Hawke did all the work and got half the cut. Every time he saw Hubert, he had some new problem with the mines for Hawke to take care of. Hawke slipped behind the column in front of him, just escaping Hubert's gaze. Merrill and Varric did the same and together the group managed to sneak around Hubert and up the stairs. They entered the main courtyard before the steps to the Keep and veered right, towards the Chantry. After passing through the open portcullis, they turned to the left and trotted up the stairs to the Hightown estates. Hawke stopped at the top and looked to his left.

Fenris's estate was only a few steps away, yet he questioned whether or not he really wanted Fenris to come along for this adventure. He asked himself if he could use the extra blade by his side and began to consider it...before he also asked 'Do I really want to listen to Fenris moan and groan and brood the whole time over how the haunting is somehow the fault of mages and magic in general?'

Hawke turned on his heel and headed to the right towards Bartrand's now haunted manor. Merrill gave him a knowing grin as he passed her and caught her eye. She didn't care much for Fenris's brooding either. Varric chuckled and followed the pair.

As they reached the door, the temperature felt as if it had dropped a few degrees. Hawke credited it to the closed in front steps, constantly in the shade throughout the day. He reached out and opened the door.

The trio stepped into the entryway. Haphazardly stacked crates, large and small still dominated the room, just as Hawke remember it. Hawke lead them onwards, already questioning the wisdom of going to the haunted estate. Approaching the doorway on the far wall, he stopped dead. He felt a chill creep up his spine as a gradual wail became more audible somewhere deeper in the house. Merrill stepped closer to Hawke and slid her hand into his. He looked back and saw a hint of nervousness in the weak smile she tried to conceal it with. He turned forward and led them through the kitchen, halting again when a rack of bottles began to clatter together. As he stepped through the open doorway into the next hall, the door ahead of them slammed open, revealing the bedroom beyond it.

Merrill tugged at Hawke's hand and stopped. "Hawke, Varric...I would very much like to leave soon."

Hawke reassuringly tightened his grip on her hand and said quietly, "Everything will be fine Merrill. We're together here and I won't let you out of my sight."

"Nor you mine." Merrill said with a determined flare in her voice.

Hawke expected a witty interjection from Varric at this point, but looked over to see Varric's face contorted in a look of confusion and rapture. "Can you hear that? Is that...music?"

"I don't hear anything." Hawke said with a shake of his head.

"Nevermind. Let's just keep moving." Varric said as he stepped towards the door.

Hawke cast a concerned look at Merrill, who also appeared baffled by Varric's behavior. They turned and followed Varric into the bedroom. Hawke was about to say something to Varric, when a vase resting upon the bedside table began to hover. The vase slowly lifted off the table, rising to about a foot, and then it stopped.

"I guess the buyer wasn't kidding." Varric said, transfixed upon the vase.

Hawke went to approach the vase, but it suddenly fell and shattered upon the table. Merrill started in surprise, then composed herself.

"Let's go." Varric said, already heading towards the next door.

As Hawke and Merrill entered the hallway, Varric was trying to open the door to the main hall. "Dammit, it's jammed." He said as he released the handle and backed away. "Come on, through here." He started towards the open door to the reading room, then stopped. "There it is again. It's a voice."

"What voice?" Hawke said.

Varric didn't seem to hear him, and went off through the reading room.

"Come on." Hawke said taking Merrill's hand and heading after Varric. "I'm worried about him."

"What's gotten into him?" Merrill asked.

They found Varric just standing in the next hallway, as if listening to something. "It's so faint, I can hardly hear it now...I wish I could make out the words."

"Varric, I don't think this is a good idea. What's gotten into you? You've been acting very strangely." Hawke said as he approached Varric.

"Nothing wrong Hawke, it's just this house." And with that, Varric turned around and continued onward.

As they passed a table and set of chairs, one of the chairs rose off the ground, inverted itself and floated to the ceiling as if gravity had been reversed.

"I don't like this." Merrill said to Hawke.

"We're getting closer Hawke, can't you feel it?" Varric said, his voice adopting a certain wildness that Hawke found particularly unnerving, coming from him.

"Yeah...sure." Hawke said as continued to follow.

They entered the room at the end of the hall. A certain calm seemed to overtake Varric's previous determination as he surveyed the room. "Look at it. All of Bartrand's junk was left here." Varric paused and looked at Hawke. "He would have liked that. Believe it or not, Bartrand was quite a sentimentalist. One time when we were young, I accidentally broke one of my mother's plates...Bartrand yelled at me for an hour. Admonished me for destroying the craftsmanship of House Saldras, the clay from the Aedros Atuna River. That stupid plate was the whole city of Orzammar to him."

"No way." Hawke said with a bit of a chuckle.

"I swear on my ancestors." Varric said.

"Huh" Hawke paused. "Well, shall we?" He said gesturing towards the door, relieved that Varric seemed himself.

Varric grinned and they returned to the hallway. The chair still sat upon the ceiling. Suddenly, a shrieking disturbed the uneasy silence. Two apparitions ran through one of the doors and down the hall. A woman, screaming and terrified, judging by her appearance, pursued by a large man.

"This is no paltry artifact, the idol must still be here Hawke!" Varric said excitedly as he headed further down the hall.

A door swung open before him and he entered it. It was the dining hall. Sets of candles sat upon each table, all lit, as if set by someone expecting guests for dinner. Hawke apprehensively stepped into the room. As soon as both he and Merrill set foot in the room, all of the candles went out. Only the fireplace remained, lighting the center of the room where Varric stood.

"It's not in here, we need to keep looking." Varric said as he turned towards them and walked out the door.

They went back into the reading room. All the books scattered about the room rose from the ground and re-positioned themselves in their proper places while the trio passed through. As soon as Hawke rounded the corner back into the first hallway, the room back to the bedroom slammed shut and a nearby vase hurled itself at Hawke. Caught by surprise, Hawke barely had time to raise his arm before the vase struck him, shattering to pieces on his armor and sending him back a few steps.

"Hawke are you alright?" Merrill asked, rushing towards him.

"Yes, I'm fine thank you."

Hawke noticed Varric stepping through the now open door into the main hall. He took Merrill's hand and followed. They entered the hall and an assortment of vases and books began to levitate all about the room, passing overhead and around the group. Hawke lowered his arms and started towards the stairs when he heard a loud, sharp rumbling and what almost sounded like a growl.

"Oh dear." Merrill said worriedly, following Varric and Hawke.

They reached the top of the stairs and heard a faint rustling in the bedroom across from them. Hawke went over and opened the door. A woman came running up to them as they entered the room.

"Are you real?" She asked them, wide-eyed with fear. "We've got to leave now."

Hawke was about to say something when Varric stepped past him. "Where's the idol?" Varric demanded.

"What? What are you talking about?" the woman asked.

"You know what idol! Don't waste my time with your lies." Varric yelled, the veins in his neck bulging.

"Varric! Take it easy, she obviously doesn't know what you're talking about." Hawke said.

"I know it's still here Hawke! She must know where it-" a loud rumble reverberated in their ears and shook the house, cutting Varric off.

"Oh no! It's starting again!" the woman shrieked as she made for the door. She was down the stairs when Hawke reached the railing. He saw a hulking golem materialize in the center of the room, right in front of the woman. It reached out and caught her by the neck as she tried to run around it, lifting her off her feet and in front of it.

"No!" Hawke yelled as he drew his sword and leapt over the railing onto one of the bookcases below, but he was too late. He heard a sickening crunch as the ghostly golem tightened its grip and the woman went limp. It flung her behind it into the corner of the hall. It brought its arms up above its head and swung them down into the ground, cracking the stone beneath it. A hollow, stony sound, sounding like a laugh emanated from the golem.

Hawke roared and jumped from the bookcase, bringing his sword up over his head. He landed hard in front of the golem, and brought his blade down across its arm as it tried to defend itself.

"Shit." Varric said as he drew Bianca and took a shot at the golem from the top of the stairs. The bolt chipped the golems shoulder and glanced off into the wall.

Merrill jumped from the stairs, gracefully as a cat and landed with a roll, drawing her staff and firing a bolt of energy at the hulking mass of rock in one fluid motion. The bolt struck it in the head as it swung one of its massive arms at Hawke, disorienting it and causing it to miss Hawke's head by a mere few inches. Hawke took the opportunity to press the attack, lunging at his foe and stabbing at a joint in its midsection. The golem surprised him with its speed however and sidestepped, launching one of its fists straight into Hawke's ribs. The metal on the side of his armor indented, bruising his ribs, but causing no severe damage. Hawke rolled out of the way of the golem's follow-up and cursed himself for his carelessness. _Never underestimate an enemy._

Varric fired off a volley of three bolts that all stuck the golem in the back, drawing its attention away from Hawke for a moment. It turned, tearing a chunk of stone from the floor as it did and hurled it at the balcony where Varric stood. Varric dove out of the way just as the rock struck the banister, sending chunks of granite flying everywhere. Regaining his bearings, Varric rolled to the side and cocked Bianca for a second attack. He jumped down to the landing below as another chunk of rock came flying at him. He landed, rolled, and fired at the monster again, striking it square in the face. As it threw its head back and roared in frustration, Merrill hurled a conjured stone through the air and struck the golem's right arm, blasting off the lower half of it. The golem stumbled, then condensed itself into an orb of energy and shot up into the air. As it reached toward the ceiling, it split into six smaller orbs which shot back towards the ground. As they stuck, shades sprouted from the ground, shrieking.

Hawke spun around and dashed towards Merrill, cleaving an approaching shade in half, then rolling as Merrill shot a bolt of fire at the one behind him. Varric took out two of them with a barrage from Bianca atop his perch on the landing. Hawke looked at Merrill, then leapt and brought his sword down on the fifth shade. Just before the last one struck him from behind, Merrill materialized before it and impaled it with the blade of her staff. As the last shade faded from existence, the golem's form became visible once again in the center of the room. Before Hawke could react, it wound up and swung its fist straight into his chest, crushing his chestplate and hurling him across the room, over a table and into a bookcase. He landed with a heavy thud that sent books flying and the shelves crashing down around him as he came to rest on the stone floor.

"Hawke!" Merrill screamed, fighting the urge to rush over to him. She turned and ducked as the golem swung at her, slashing at the back of its knee, bringing it down to a kneel with the sheer force of the blow. Putting every ounce of energy she had remaining into it, Merrill summoned a blast of flames so powerful, it charred the ethereal golem and sent it sprawling across the floor. As it pushed itself back up on its feet, Varric sent a punishing shot straight through the brittle stone, leaving a sizable hole in the golem's left shoulder. It roared and started towards Merrill, who was doubled over on the floor, fighting the exhaustion from the attack she had just unleashed.

Hawke blinked a few times, dazed, and looked down at his chest. The golem had left a massive dent in the center of his chestplate. The metal had turned in and was jabbing into his sternum and stomach. He gasped for breath and winced as his ribs protested in agony. He was pretty sure he'd broken a few this time. He unstrapped the plates of his armor, leaving the mail shirt below. The links in the mail around where the impact was were bent, but still intact. This would protect him from shades if they returned, but Maker preserve him if he took another blow like that. He shoved some debris from his arms and picked himself up. He looked over to see the golem charging towards Merrill.

"No!" Hawke roared as he sprung up and grabbed his sword from the ground, running to intercept the monstrous pile of rock.

The golem's arm swung back as it prepared to crush the puny elven mage beneath its mighty fist.

Hawke brought his sword back and swung for the golem's arm as it came down, ignoring the agony his broken ribs caused him.

The golems arm met Hawke's blade and shattered, the charred ghostly stone flying in every direction. It turned as Hawke brought the pommel of his sword straight into its face, chipping off a portion of its jaw and sending it reeling. Before it could regain its composure, a heavy bolt flew through the air and struck it square in the back of the head, causing it to implode. Chunks of the golem fell to the ground as the energy that held the apparition together faded. The pieces of ghostly stone landed on the ground in a pile and began to vanish from sight, returning to the fade.

Hawke fell to his knee, exhausted and in pain. He put a hand on Merrill's back. "You alright?"

"I...I'll be fine...thank you." She said looking up into his eyes. She reached up and put her arms around his neck, holding him with all the strength her body could muster.

"Ugh...Merrill...please don't." Hawke said, his ribs set ablaze by the force of her embrace.

"Oh no! Are you hurt? How badly?" She asked, releasing him and trying to support his weight as he doubled over.

"I'll be ok Merrill, you're in no condition to be healing me right now." Hawke said, more worried about her well being than his own. "Are you ok though? You look exhausted."

"I just need a few moments rest to regain my strength, that spell took a lot out of me." Merrill said, sitting down beside Hawke.

"Hang on one second." Hawke said as he rose to his feet, using his sword for support. Merrill followed his gaze and saw Varric crouching over where the golem had been slain.

Hawke approached Varric. "It's a shard of the idol!" Varric said, holding a piece of the cursed item in his hands as he turned to face Hawke. "I knew Bartrand lied to me. He had to keep a piece for himself. Imagine what we could do with this!"

"Like go insane and kill each other?" Hawke half-sarcastically replied. "I don't want to end up like Bartrand, Varric. You know what we need to do with that." Hawke said, pointing at the shard in Varric's hands.

"No Hawke! I'm not my brother. This is just a tiny shard of the idol. I need this! Six years of my life went into this Hawke. Six years!" Varric yelled, holding the shard tightly in his hands. "This is my only hope of understanding what happened to my brother."

"Varric...you know what will happen if you keep that. You'll go mad and I'll have to kill you...don't make me do that Varric." Hawke said, looking Varric straight in the eye. This was what Hawke had feared from the second they had entered the house. The "voices" and "music" Varric talked about reminded Hawke all too much of what had happened with Bartrand. Varric was one of Hawke's closest friends, one of the first he'd made during his time in Kirkwall. The thought of killing him was impossible to grasp. Hawke hoped Varric hadn't seen through his bluff. He knew if it came to it, he'd be incapable of killing him.

"Hawke, you've got to listen to me! I can handle this!" Varric said.

"Varric, you've been acting a lot like Bartrand was since we've entered this house. That's not like you. That's not convincing me that this won't corrupt you. I can't let that happen Varric." Hawke said, trying his hardest to convey his worry.

For a second Varric looked as if he was ready to fight Hawke over this. Then, his shoulders slumped and he handed the shard over to Hawke. "Fine. Take it. Maybe Enchantment Boy can dispose of it for you." He looked up. "Let's get outta here. I could use some air."


	8. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Malcolm looked around. This place was always the same. Whenever he entered The Fade this was where he came. This scarred landscape that never changed. The scorched patches of dirt, the ghastly remains of Fereldan and Tevinter soldiers littering the battlefield. Malcolm surveyed the place with regret in his eyes. He wished this had never happened. He never should have been here in the first place. This battle that had cost so many lives. This place that had swallowed so many souls. The few plants watered with the blood of young soldiers fighting a war that never should have been. Even the heavy fog typical of The Fade did little to dampen the terrible scene. The one defining feature of the field though, was The Keep. Looming over the field, casting all in its shadow. The dark Keep of Solas in the heart of the Imperium. It stood a behemoth, overexaggerrated in Malcolm's memory and portrayed as such in his vision within The Fade. He began to make his way toward it, weaving through the gore-strewn field. He knew the way by heart.

_For you, my son._

Hawke woke with a gasp and tried to sit up, only to be immediately reminded of the previous night's events. Varric, the estate, the golem...his ribs, and the shard. He'd seen Varric back to The Hanged Man, then returned home with Merrill. He'd left the shard with Sandal, who seemed delighted with it. Then, tired and battered, he'd eased himself into bed and drifted off into fitfull sleep.

Merrill awoke as well, alarmed by Hawke's violent awaken. "Shhh, lay down. Everything is ok." Merrill cooed, placing a gentle hand on Hawke's chest as he slowly reclined back into bed.

Hawke looked at her lovingly and smiled. "I can see that."

She looked down remorsefully at his bandaged torso. It was the best she could do after the battle the previous night, but she still felt badly about not having been able to do more for him. "I lost it last night." She said, looking at Hawke.

"You saved all of us." Hawke said, placing his hand on her cheek. "If you hadn't acted as you did, we wouldn't have been able to defeat that monstrosity."

"I exhausted myself though. That spell could have killed me, or worse, weakened me enough to allow a demon to possess me. I let my anger impair my judgment." Said Merrill, looking away, ashamed...

"None of us are ever completely in control Merrill." Hawke said, understanding all too well what she must have felt last night. "You can't fault yourself for that."

"Yes...I can and I do. Don't patronize me Hawke." She said, looking down at her feet. "I shouldn't have let my feelings for you cloud my mind like that and put us all at risk."

"Merrill do you remember Huon?" Hawke asked, recalling that terrible night.

She turned towards him with a scrutinizing look on her face.

"I didn't completely black out. I was still there, but I was buried deep down behind some massive force. Something deep within me took over. I was a passenger in my own body, but I still felt its rage...my rage. I felt no pain, wanted only blood, and all the while I could have fought it, but I didn't...I didn't want to. All I wanted to do was rip Huon to save myself. To protect you. I was out of control." Hawke looked down, struck by the truth in his voice. He had known it was true, but it was as if hearing it aloud made it real.

Merrill sat and looked upon him for what felt like an eternity. She turned and said quietly. "Hawke, I'm sorry."

"For what?" He asked, reaching out and touching her arm.

"I need some time to think." She replied.

"Merrill, I-" Hawke started, but Merrill put a finger to his lips.

"I need to think about us. I love you Hawke. I love you more and more each day, which is why I can't let myself hurt you. I'm already dangerous enough what with the blood magic and the Eluvian, but who knows what that darkness is that lives within you? Who knows what the cost of its might is? How many more times will it force you beyond your limits when you lose control because of me? I can't let your love for me destroy you and last night made me realize that my attachment to you is...it makes me a danger to us both." She turned towards Hawke and kissed him, tears in her eyes, before getting up and walking out the door.

Hawke stared blankly at the bedroom door, paralyzed by what had just happened. He sunk back into the pillow, deflated. He brought his hands to his face and just laid there, unable to comprehend the fact that he may have just lost the person he loved most in the world. Thoughts raced through his brain like a hive of angry bees. He couldn't focus on anything. This felt like a dream. He felt sick. Deep in his bowels, he felt his terror and confusion festering, manifesting as this deep ache.

_He couldn't go on without her. She was everything to him. How could she do this?_

A knock on the door distracted him from the raging torrent in his mind. He looked up to see Bodahn.

"Messer, is everything alright? It's almost noon now." The dwarf asked, concern in his expression.

"Yeah, I'll be down in a minute, just let me clean up." Hawke said, shocked that it was already noon.

Bodahn spared a last knowing look at Hawke before closing the door.

Hawke rose from bed, grunting as his ribs became inflamed with pain. He sat on the side of the bed and got up, making his way to the washbasin. He took the cloth and dabbed the now cold water on the massive bruise on his chest. Even the slightest touch caused him discomfort. He figured it best to go see Anders and get his mind off Merrill. He eventually clothed himself and went downstairs to eat. Bodahn had prepared a plate of steak and potatoes. Hawke sat down and took a bite of each. All he could taste was ash. He didn't want to eat, but he forced down a few more bites to stave off the hunger he knew he'd feel if he didn't. He got up and walked into the main room. Bodahn stood by the fireplace.

"If anyone asks for you while you're away, where should I direct them messer?" Bodahn asked.

"I'm going to see Anders. I shouldn't be too long, Bodahn...and thanks for lunch." Hawke said as he walked out the front door.

As he made his way to Darktown, Hawke looked for any distraction he might lay eyes on, but to no avail, his mind was set on Merrill. His need for healing was the only thing keeping him moving. He descended one of the lifts down into the miserable slums of Kirkwall. The walls around him built long ago to contain Kirkwall's legion of slaves now housed the poor and wretched. He turned a corner and caught a view of the vast expanse of the Waking Sea, narrowed by the sheer cliffs and massive bronze statues, the Twins of Kirkwall, and the monstrous chains they carried. They were a marvel of engineering, morbid and unsettling as they were. As Hawke approached the railing, he peered out onto the rolling seas below, crashing upon the immovable stone cliffs.

As he marvelled at the beauty of the sea, wondering somewhere deep in the back of his mind whether the fall or the waters would kill him should he jump, the rasping sound of a blade leaving its sheath struck his ears. A familiar weight settled within his gut as he formed a mental image of his surroundings to trace the source of the sound and prepared to defend himself. Behind and to the left. Hid beneath the staircase as he came down. Saw the way he held his ribs and thought him easy prey. Common cutthroat. Cotterie agents not so careless. Perhaps a group of them. Short rasp. Small blade. Shortsword or dagger. Sound came from lower than ear-level. Dwarf. All this within a second.

Hawke ducked, grabbed the knife from his boot, spun to face the attacker/attackers and raised his blade in a reverse grip, ready to parry. Four dwarves, though they wore the Cotterie's armor. Initiates over eager to prove themselves. The first one, the one who'd been sloppy enough to be heard drawing his blade, faltered as he advanced. He was about two paces from Hawke, dagger drawn and raised when Hawke spun. The dagger came for his head, but Hawke piroutted to the left and slashed upwards with his own blade, severing the tendons in the dwarf's wrist. The dwarf howled in pain and stumbled forward, dropping the dagger and clutching his wrist. Hawke took advantage of the situation and delivered a kick between the dwarves shoulders, sending him crashing through the flimsy railing and down into the ocean's maw below. Hawke reached with his left hand, scooped up the dagger from the ground, spun and hurled it at the group of dwarves with a roar, catching the one in the middle between the eyes. As their comrade fell dead, the other two drew their weapons and charged. Normally, Hawke would have merely disarmed the would-be muggers and scared them off...unfortunately for them, they caught him at the worst possible time.

One carried a two-handed club and the other, a dwarven axe. The one with the club swung first, aiming to take out Hawke's legs. Hawke leaped over the swing and smashed a knee into the dwarf's nose, sending him reeling backwards. The one with the axe jumped forward and came down with the axe, missing Hawke by a hair as he rolled out of the way. The impact of the roll jarred his ribs considerably, but he kept focused on the fight, ignoring the burst of pain. The dwarf spun and came at him again, swinging for his neck. Hawke merely moved his head out of the way and ducked back in, stabbing the dwarf between his shoulder and neck. He grabbed the dwarf's outstretched arm with his free hand and brought it down over his knee, breaking it at the elbow. The dwarf cried out in pain and dropped his axe. Hawke went to tear out the knife and finish the dwarf, but the dwarf swung his uninjured arm punched Hawke directly in ribs. Hawke's vision went black for a few seconds as the bloom of pain spread through his entire body and brought him to his knee. The dwarf took the opportunity to try and get his arm free of Hawke's grip, but Hawke knew if he lost that, he was done. Gathering his senses, Hawke yanked the dwarf's arm towards him and delivered an elbow to his face, using that as a distraction, he grabbed hold of the knife again and pulled it from his foe's shoulder. In one motion, Hawke got to his feet, slid the knife across the dwarf's throat, and used his broken arm to hurl him into the ground. He turned to look for the one with the club right in time to get smashed in the ribs. The dwarf had regained his senses and come back into the fight, a little late for his friend, but not too late to bring down the mighty Hawke. The force of the blow knocked Hawke to the ground. Survival was his only thought now. The pain in his abdomen was paralyzing, but his will to survive kept him moving now. As the dwarf brought the club down, aiming to finish him, he rolled out the way. He struggled to stand and the delay allowed the dwarf enough time to close the distance and kick him in the side. Hawke was certain that every rib he had was shattered at the point, that his muscles were the only thing keeping his midsection held together. Atleast, that's what it felt like. Hawke pushed himself up onto his hands and knees. He looked up to see the Twins. They stood like behemoth monuments of the past. A reminder to all of the dark history of this city. He saw the ocean. The deep blue torrent of water and foam.

_You will never lose me Ma Vhenan._

The dwarf stepped in front of Hawke, blocking his view.

_No._

He raised his club over his head to deliver the killing blow.

_You're not invincible Hawke. Sometimes you have to let others help you._

The dwarf began to swing the club.

_No._

Not this time. He could feel the force within him pushing against its cage, looking for a way to get out, an excuse to take over. But he wouldn't let it out. This time, he was going to save himself. He didn't need the monster within him.

"NOOOOOOOOO!" Hawke burst to his feet, and threw his forearm up, catching the dwarf's arms and stopping the blow. The club flew behind Hawke as he used his other hand to clutch the dwarf's throat and lift him into the air. He rushed forward and threw the dwarf outwards, casting him into the roaring seas below. He caught himself on one of the support beams and watched as the dwarf plummeted into the water.

He looked to his left and saw the doors to Anders clinic down the way. It wasn't far, but it might as well have been miles. Hawke could barely stand. He struggled to keep his footing as he stepped away from the railing and started towards the clinic, battered and broken, but proud.

So, sorry about the delay everyone! Started my 2nd year of college and it's been hectic. I also hit a bit of a roadblock (I'm sure you can guess were that was), but I came up with a solution the other day and have been writing like a madman since. "Why would you do such a thing?" you ask? Well, quite simply, I wanted to mix things up a bit. You know, keep the story dynamic. I felt like I may have been lulling you all into a false sense of security...so I gave you a bit of a jolt! Bad things can happen to the hero! So shoot me some hatemai- uh...I mean reviews, yes reviews and let me know what you think!


	9. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Darkness surrounded Hawke. He was in a dimly lit room with stone walls. A circle of light cast from a singular candle in the middle of the room kept his eyes unadjusted to the darkness. The other corners of the room were a mystery to him, but he heard a deep rumbling growl emanating from the darkness. He looked around but couldn't find the source. It seemed to be coming from all around. He slowly edged toward the candle, but as he got within a few feet, the candle flickered and extinguished as if smothered by an unseen entity. The moment the flame went out, an immense cold set over the room. The ominous growl sounded again...right behind Hawke. He spun to face this specter. His eyes weren't quite adjusted to the darkness, but he could make out the shape of a man. The shape stepped toward him, but Hawke held his ground. As his eyes adjusted, he could make out a face. His own. Twisted as it was, his features were unmistakable, though they were horribly contorted in a look of pure rage. But what scared Hawke the most was the smile on this apparitions face. It's look that cut Hawke to his core. That told him it knew him.

_That it was him._

Hawke gasped. He felt as if he were drowning. He frantically pulled for air, but couldn't get enough. He opened his eyes wide to see Anders leaning over him.

"Calm Hawke, calm. Breathe slow. You've collapsed one of your lungs and if you continue to breathe like that, you're going to pass out again." Anders said as he leaned over Hawke, his hands aglow with energy as he tended to Hawke's numerous injuries.

"Oh is that all?" Hawke coughed out between labored breaths.

"Again Hawke, you defy reason. You should be dead you crazy bastard." Anders said, looking up at Hawke, a tone of disapproval entering his voice.

"Oh, is it my fault trouble always seems to find me?" Hawke teased, repressing another, more melancholy response that had immediately come to mind. He'd never cared to burden others with his problems.

"Hmmph. I'd hardly call taking on a group of Coterie thugs in the condition you were in just 'trouble'. You're a magnet for all sorts of disaster and violence." Anders said, finishing up with Hawke's lung and moving on to his last broken rib.

"Ach, that hurt." Hawke cringed as his rib slowly moved itself around and snapped back into place with a sickening crack. He could have sworn he saw a small grin cross Ander's face if only for a moment.

"Found you collapsed on the stairs to the clinic. Thought you were dead. Gave me a good scare you bastard. Lucky I found you too, looked like a couple fools were thinking of taking what you had." Anders sat back and pondered to himself the inevitability that Hawke would again be on one of the cots in his clinic, recovering from yet another horrific encounter. He grinned to himself and shook his head.

"Well Anders, it seems again, I owe you my gratitude and my life." Hawke said as he stood with some effort, trying to stretch the stiffness out of his sore abdomen. "Drinks later at the Hanged Man? On me. Varric had mentioned something about a game of cards too if you're interested."

"Hah, I'm surprised. You haven't been out for drinks in a while. Merrill letting you get out mo-" Anders began to tease, but caught himself as he saw the expression drain from Hawke's face.

Hawke felt like he'd taken a blow to the gut, but he tried to hide it. He recomposed himself and simply replied "Yeah...something like that." He turned and started towards the door, noticing the confused and worried expression on Ander's face. "I'll probably end up explaining it to you later tonight after I've had a few."

"And I'll try to make sure you don't do anything rash." Ander's said, knowing all too well that sadness and alcohol were a bad mix. He already knew for the most part what was going on. Nothing but that could take away Hawke's generally care-free attitude.

"See ya later then." Hawke said as he opened the door and left the clinic.

A deep sense of gloom accompanied Hawke on his way about Kirkwall. He wandered wherever his feet would take him, aimlessly searching for anything that would keep his mind off her, but search as he may, no easy solution presented itself. Most of all, he wondered. Where had she gone? Was she afraid of him? Was all of this his fault?

Hawke found himself at the steps to the Viscount's Keep. He looked up at the massive gated archways leading to the doors. The statues lining the walkway. He began up the stairs, figuring he might as well stop in and say hello to Aveline. They hadn't spoken much in the past few months. He'd seen her once or twice on patrol in the streets and gotten her to spare a few minutes catching up, but she always seemed so busy now as guard-captain, not to mention her marriage to Donnic.

The ceremony had been a nice affair. The wedding held at the Chantry in Kirkwall. Many of the city guardsmen were there, most still in uniform as they had just come off duty. Anders had helped the caterers prepare a fantastic meal. Varric had hired some old friends to play music and sing. He'd even got up and joined them after a few too many drinks. Fenris, well Fenris just kind of showed up, congratulated Aveline and Donnic, then sat down and brooded. Hawke had insisted on paying for the entertainment and food. He was happy for Aveline. Seeing her with Donnic...she just seemed so happy. Happier than he'd seen her since Wesley was killed. He'd spent most of his time mingling with everyone. He'd made friends with most of the guardsmen, danced and sang with Varric and the band, and spent the rest of his time with Merrill. It was a good day.

As Hawke stepped through the doors of the keep, he was treated to quite a scene. Meredith stood before a man Hawke may have mistaken for a guardsman or soldier were it not for his entourage and ornate, well-polished, undented armor.

"Soooo, that's you're final answer then?" The man asked in a tone that reminded Hawke much of Varric's playful teasing.

"You have harbored apostate mages, your highness, what were you expecting me to say?" Meredith spat at the man, obviously infuriated, but unable to do anything about it. Hawke guessed that had something to do with the "your highness" title she had just conferred upon him.

"Hmm...a 'maybe' would have been nice?" The man sarcastically replied, obviously taking pleasure in seeing the Knight-Commander fume...Hawke liked this man already.

"I do not deal in 'maybes'. I deal in cold, hard facts." Meredith recited her favorite response to anything worded with a maybe. "Maybe when Fereldan next chooses a King, it will be one who takes his duty to The Maker seriously." So, this man was King Alistair.

Hawke simply couldn't help himself. "Didn't you just say 'I do not deal in maybes.'?" Hawke said as he drew closer, wearing a sly grin as he saw Meredith's face contort into a scowl.

Meredith opened her mouth as if to say something, but stopped herself and simply said "We are done here." as she turned and left.

"Ah you must be Hawke." Alistair said, turning towards him and extending a hand to him. "Sorry you had to see that...is she always like that?"

"Ohh don't mind her, that's just her idea of 'Kirkwall hospitality'." Hawke said with a chuckle as he shook the King's hand. This close, he could see the lines of age and worry that had beset the man's face. From what he knew, Alistair was only but a few years older than he, though the deep lines of a furrowed brow and the dark circles beneath his eyes spoke otherwise. Hawke did not envy him. This was one of the reasons he hadn't tried to take up the viscount's position after defeating the Arishok...he simply didn't want to deal with all of that stress.

"Hah, then I imagine 'Kirkwall scorn' must burn the skin right off your face." Alistair said, laughing. "But I was hoping we could talk, I've heard a lot about you. Would've been better timing before being emasculated by Meredith, but I'm not picky."

"Huh, I suppose things are looking up. Not often I get called on to meet with foreign leaders." Hawke said with a smile, genuinely glad to meet him.

"Hey, I'm not so foreign. You're a refugee from Lothering aren't you? Came to Kirkwall, and you've obviously done well for yourself against all odds. I'm glad to meet you though. I was hoping your influence here in Kirkwall may be of some use. Things haven't been going well with Orlais, unfortunately and without a Viscount here, there's only the Knight-Commander to deal with and I'm sure you could see she isn't exactly fond of me."

"A lot of Fereldans fled to Kirkwall during the Blight." Hawke said, trying to steer the conversation away from the leadership of Kirkwall, dreading Alistair may ask him to take up the mantle of Viscount.

"I know...I wish I could have helped them." Alistair said, looking down, a somber note in his voice. His gaze returned to Hawke. "The Blight devastated the kingdom and ever since, well it hasn't exactly been the same. They're all welcome back though, as are you, of course. After all this time though, would you still consider Fereldan home?"

"No...I suppose not. I've grown quite fond of Kirkwall." Hawke said, returning the King's gaze.

"I understand...Fereldan's loss." Alistair said, meaning every word of the compliment he had just paid Hawke.

Hawke grinned at him, grateful for his kindness. "So what's this business with Orlais?" he asked, genuinely interested what trouble his childhood homeland may be in.

"Oh you know, the usual: attempted assassinations, civil uprisings, fancy parties with stinky cheese." They both chuckled. "But really, things aren't going well, the Empress and I are trying our best, but many of the nobles of Orlais think it would be just grand to reclaim their lost province."

"We aren't going to let them swoop down on us though." The man next to him said.

"Oh Teagan, please forgive me, that business with Meredith must have stripped me of my manners." He turned to Hawke. "This is Teagan, my uncle...sort of." Alistair said.

"Pleased to meet you, I'm Teagan, I'm only sort of his uncle." Teagan said, shaking Hawke's hand.

"Well, you mentioned my influence here and it 'being of use'...how can I help the King of Fereldan?" Hawke asked, releasing Teagan's hand.

"Unfortunately, Meredith caught wind of my arrival sooner than I thought, but what you can do is continue to protect Kirkwall. It'll take someone like you to keep it from falling apart." Alistair replied.

"Just me between Kirkwall and utter destruction? No problem." Hawke replied jokingly.

Alistair gave a laugh. "You know, you remind me of an old friend even look a bit like him. We were in the same situation with Fereldan. Trust me, it wasn't pretty, but I'm sure you can handle it."

"Speaking of him, the Hero of Fereldan will be in Denerim shortly, we should return as soon as possible." Teagan interjected.

"Oh why are you always so formal, he has a name you know." Alistair said turning on Teagan. "Anyway, it was a pleasure to meet you, Hawke. I hope we can speak again in the future." Alistair said with a smile, again extending his hand to Hawke.

"Likewise." Hawke replied with a smile and a handshake, feeling as if he was saying goodbye to a friend.

Alistair and Teagan headed off, followed out the door by their cadre of guards. Hawke laughed to himself. He'd always thought of Kings as stuffy, impersonal people. Alistair had just proved to be an exception to that rule and Hawke was glad for it. He turned and started towards the stairs, heading to Aveline's office. Going down the stairs, he passed by Donnic, who headed a column of guards filing out of the captain's office.

"Donnic!" Hawke greeted him with a smile and a handshake.

"I'd love to stay and talk, but I have a post to report to Hawke, maybe another time?" Donnic quickly replied as he shuffled past Hawke with the rest of the guards.

"Yeah...sure." Hawke said as Donnic reached the top of the stair case. He turned and rounded the corner into Aveline's office.

"Hello Hawke." Aveline said with a smile. "How have things been?"

"Fine and you?" Hawke lied though his teeth.

"Oh I've been great. Donnic...he's a fine man." Aveline said, trailing off a bit.

"Hah, you never did say how the honeymoon was." Hawke joked.

"No, I didn't." Aveline said with a sly grin.

Hawke paused for a moment, then realized that was all she was going to say. He chuckled. "So it seems you've settled into your office well."

"It's been challenging, but yes I suppose I have. I think the people are just happy that things have stayed stable the past few years."

"Seems your men could give the Templars a run for their money. They're well-trained, Aveline." Hawke complimented.

"They have. Ever since the Viscount was killed, the damn Templars think they can take over and they've had more than one run in with my men. I won't have it. The people need to have faith in the guard and that won't happen if those bastards continue talking down to them. I've made it perfectly clear that that sort of thing won't be tolerated." Aveline's features hardened. Hawke could tell she disliked the Templars almost as much as he did.

"Well I'm glad to see you putting your foot down to them. They need someone to put them in their place." Hawke said, smiling at her.

"Don't think I've taken up Ander's cause now, Hawke. My only interest is in the guard maintaining face. But enough about work, how have you been? How's Merrill?" Aveline asked, looking up at Hawke as she sat against her desk.

"Fine." Hawke struggled past the knot that had just formed in his throat. He tried to force a smile, but it must have looked odd because Aveline's expression changed.

"Is that nervousness, Hawke?" Aveline asked, standing with a look of shock on her face.

"Well-" Hawke started, but Aveline cut him off.

"Why didn't I see it sooner? You've been seeing each other for how long now? Three years?" Aveline was standing before Hawke, a look of joy on her face.

"Aveline, I-"

"You're going to propose aren't you?" Aveline's excitement was evident.

"No, Aveline-"

"Don't worry, I remember how nervous Donnic was, but we're-"

"Aveline!" Hawke yelled. He couldn't let her go any further.

Aveline stopped, her expression dropped.

"Merrill left Aveline." Hawke said. "I'm not sure for how long, or whether it's for good, but she left and I can't help but feel it's my fault. I don't even know where she went."

"Oh, Hawke." Aveline said, putting a hand on his shoulder.

"Yeah." Hawke said, taking a seat.

Aveline pulled up a chair next to him. "Hawke, I don't know what to say."

"Neither do I Aveline, neither do I." Hawke looked down at his hands. "I don't know what to do."

"Do you love her Hawke?" Aveline asked.

"Of course I-"

"Well then get out there and find her!" Aveline yelled. "Sitting around trying to figure out what you're going to do isn't going to solve anything. You need to act. You need to talk to her. Three years don't go out the window just like that Hawke. I don't know what all this is about, but I can assure you, she still has feelings for you and that's something that you can't just let slip through your fingers. So I'll ask again," Aveline slowed her pace, emphasizing the weight of each word. "Do you love her?"

Hawke relived every sensation, every feeling he'd felt with her. Everything they'd ever done together. Every secret they'd shared. Their hopes and aspirations. All the love between them. He knew without a shadow of a doubt. "Yes."

"Then you need to make her see that Hawke." Aveline said, sitting up. "You need to make her see that."

Hawke grinned. He stood and hugged Aveline. "Thanks."

"Anytime Hawke."

He turned and left her office. As he stepped out into the night, he couldn't help but feel better. He had a pretty good idea of where Merrill would be and tomorrow, he was going to make things right. He started towards the Hanged Man, feeling much better.

"Hawke!"

Hawke laughed as he came to the top of the stairs and saw Varric standing on the table, dramatically reciting one of his stories to Anders.

"I was just telling Anders about the time...bah, I don't remember what I was saying." Varric laughed and took a draught of his mead.

Anders was laughing so hard he was in tears.

Hawke laughed and took a seat. Edwina came up and he ordered a drink. The night passed in a blur and before he knew it, the three of them were sitting down in the common room laughing boisterously, making friends, and drinking.

Varric put an arm around Hawke as they sat at one of the tables. Anders was telling a group of patrons about his time in Fereldan with the Grey Wardens.

"I'm sorry about what happened at Bartrand's estate Hawke, I don't know what came over me, but I'm glad you were with me." Varric said.

"Don't worry about it Varric." Hawke replied.

"Ahh dammit Hawke...you-" Varric's loss of word's surprised Hawke.

"You? Tongue tied? Isn't this something." Hawke laughed.

"Enjoy it Hawke, this probably won't happen again." Varric begrudged. "You're a good man Hawke and I'm honored to have known you."

"Wait, what? Are you about to die? Am I?" Hawke sarcastically replied.

"Laugh it up Hawke. I just can't believe it's been six years since I found you dragging your tail out of Bartrand's office. Six years."

"Six years and one of the best friends I've ever had." Hawke said, raising his mug to Varric.

"I'll drink to that." Varric said as he tapped his mug against Hawke's. And they did.

They drank to a good night, to friendship, to a long life, and to happiness.

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><p>So college...yeah, I kind of slacked off on this chapter. This should have been done sooner. But, it's done now, and I genuinely hope you enjoy it. I'll try not to let too much get in the way of this fic again. Been kind of busy and I'm not gonna lie, a lot of the time that I would have put into this went into Skyrim...soooo I'm sure any of you who've played it understand. I've actually been considering writing a few one-shots about some of my characters in that game...once I'm done with this. So, thanks for reading and waiting so patiently on this chapter! You're the best!<p> 


	10. Chapter 9

UPDATE 2/11/12: Herp derp, just realized I said Verathorn instead of Ilen, but apparently everyone knew what I was talking about since no one said anything yet. Oh well, all fixed :)

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><p>Chapter 9<p>

"Wake up...Hey! Wake up! Come on, the sun is comin' up, either rent a room or go home!"

Hawke half opened one eye to see the Hanged Man's barkeep attempting to evict him from the comfortable resting place he'd found upon the bar last night. He sat up and looked around. Varric was sound asleep by the fire. Anders lay unconscious against a pile of sacks by the stairs. Hawke chuckled. He knew Anders would be kicking himself for drinking once he woke up. Varric...well, Varric was a dwarf and they drink mead like water so Hawke was sure this would be just another day for him. Hawke was fortunate enough to have never had a hangover and this time was no different. He hopped off the bar and apologized to the flustered barkeep.

"Sorry, I'll try to pass out somewhere less inconvenient next time." Hawke said with a grin.

The barkeep grumbled and went over to Anders. Hawke took to Varric and nudged him with his boot until he turned over and looked up at him.

"Hawke!" Varric laughed and stretched without getting up. "Ugh, what time is it?"

"Dawn." Hawke replied.

"That early?" Varric complained as he got to his feet and rubbed his eyes.

"You think you've got it bad?" Hawke asked with a sideways glance as Anders came to right on cue with the expected groans and complaints about his mead-induced headache.

Varric chuckled again. "Oh Blondie, when are you going to learn?"

"Yes ha ha, Varric, I'm glad you find this so funny." Anders struggled to his feet and stumbled over to his friends.

"Let's get you home." Hawke said as he helped support Anders to keep him from tumbling to the floor. Varric would have liked to help, but obviously lacked the height, so instead he did the next best thing he could think of...cracking jokes at Anders expense along the way.

By the time they reached his clinic, Anders had made several attempts to physically harm Varric. Hawke had restrained him, so he'd tried to use magic, but in his current state of mental fogginess, all he'd managed to do was ruffle Varric coat. He tried one more time to lunge at him and Hawke reacted too late. Varric stepped backwards, but Anders caught a patch of his chest hair on the way down and tore it out. Hawke couldn't help laughing, but Varric was mortified. Before the two killed each other, Hawke grabbed Anders by the back of his robe, hoisted him up and dropped him on one of the cots in his clinic.

"Get some rest." Hawke said as he turned to leave.

Anders simply gave him a thumbs up and rolled over onto his side.

Hawke then walked back to his home and said goodbye to Varric as he went inside. Neither Bodahn nor Sandal were awake and Hawke was still exhausted so he went to his room and collapsed into his bed. He lay there, but as it had been every time he tried to sleep, or really any time at all he found himself alone with time to think since she left, his mind inevitably wandered to Merrill. He rolled over to see the empty space she left in the bed...and felt the emptiness in his heart. He sat up. No use trying to sleep. He wouldn't be able to. He wasn't tired enough and now more than ever, he was determined. Today, he was going to get the love of his life back.

He got up and fetched some hot water to bathe himself. He shaved his stubble and washed his face. He looked in the mirror. His dream from the previous night suddenly returned to him. He glared at the face in the mirror, but realized that anger was what fueled the monster within him. He thought of Merrill instead. Of her infectious giggle. Of the way her toes curled when...he trailed off, caught in a whirlwind of happy memories. His eyes opened and he saw instead of anger, a look of supreme serenity and happiness on his face. He grinned and turned.

Bodahn had awoken and was preparing his and Sandals breakfast when Hawke came down the stairs.

"Messer Hawke! How good to see you before noon. What with the drinking last night, I hadn't expected to see you up so early." Bodahn grinned at him. "So what is it that has you stirred from bed at this hour...and in such attire?"

Hawke had donned his armor and sword, knowing well that trouble often followed him when he set off on an adventure. "I'm going to find her." was all he said as the door swung shut behind him.

Bodahn smiled.

Hawke made his way to Lowtown rather quickly, his determination driving him onward. As he came to the alienage, he took a moment to admire the lush beauty of the vhenadahl tree and compose himself for whatever came next. He wasn't sure how Merrill would react and to be quite honest, he was terrified. He'd been mulling over all the possible things he could say to her, all the lines of reasoning he could defend their relationship with...but quite frankly, he was entirely unsure that any of it would come out right when it mattered. He was a bundle of nerves and he was worried he might say something stupid. He knew she'd taken this "thinking time" because she thought them being together was hurting him somehow and she was worried for his well-being, but over the past few days, after his encounter with the Cotterie thieves and...well, what he had been considering beforehand, he realized that he couldn't live without her.

He looked up at the tree and smiled. Maybe that was all he needed to tell her. He couldn't live without her.

Hawke smirked to himself at the simplicity of this, nerves somewhat settled, and made for Merrill's hovel. He reached the door and knocked.

No answer.

He knocked again.

Still nothing.

"Merrill?" he said aloud, knocking again.

When there still was no reply, he tried the door handle. As the handle turned and the door slid open, it made Hawke smile that even in this part of town, Merrill was so trusting as to leave her door unlocked, though at the same time, he couldn't help but worry for her safety...he'd have to talk to her about that. Or perhaps she was expecting him? _Had_been expecting him? As he looked around, he wondered if he had come too late. She wasn't home. The papers on her desk looked exactly as he remembered, except...for the large, leatherbound tome resting in the center of the desk. It was open. Hawke took a look at the page and read some of it. It appeared to be a tome dealing with magical artifacts.

The mirror.

Hawke hated that mirror. As he read further down the page, he noticed Merrill's elegant handwriting scribbled into the margin. He read the portion next to it.

_Any artifact of power, should it be broken or in any other way damaged, must be restored not only to its original physical state, but also its original magical alignment. Any significant damage to the vessel will cause it's magical alignment to be thrown out of balance. Thus, virtually nullifying the power of the artifact. Unfortunately, this process is not as simple as it seems. One does not simply channel magic into an artifact and hope for the best. It is an extremely taxing process, requiring massive amounts of energy and concentration, but also knowledge. One must know intimately of the artifact's history in order to magically balance it and spirits are often the soul keepers of such knowledge. There is only so much one can glean from texts on the artifact._

Hawke, with a mixture of worry and horror, then looked to Merrill's hastily scrawled note, already knowing what it would say.

_I have to go back to the start._

Hawke stepped back. Fear for Merrill his only thought. He quickly returned to the book, and swiped his fingers over the note a few times. He looked at his fingers and noticed that some of the ink had come off on them. She couldn't have left too long ago, perhaps there was still time. He turned and bolted out the door, tearing through Lowtown like a dragon was at his heels.

By the time he began his approach to Sundermount, he was tired, but wouldn't let that stop him. Panting as he passed through the ruins on the approach to the Dalish camp, he almost missed the flash of a shadow in his peripheral. He slowed and turned to look, but as his foot came down in a patch of grass and landed on something hard, he heard a familiar metal snap. Before he could think, his reflexes kicked in and he sprung off his feet, outstretching a hand to balance him as he threw himself into an awkward cartwheel. This brought his face dangerously close to the snapping jaws of the metal trap, but he avoided harm and landed off balance as two arrows missed his head by inches. He ducked and drew his sword. He heard a roar behind him and whirled around, outstretching his sword and catching his would-be attacker across the chest, sending him to the ground. But as he turned, he saw four more enemies. He figured they were common thieves, or brigands, but had to give them points for how they'd planned the ambush. If he'd been caught in that trap, the archers would have turned him into a pincushion faster than he could react. As it was, both were still alive and readying a second volley. Hawke vaulted over the ruined wall next to him where one was taking cover.

The archer's companion had gone around the wall in an attempt to take Hawke by surprise, but could only look on as Hawke viciously brought his blade down, splitting the bow in two and slashing the archer across his torso. The archer fell dead and Hawke turned around with a dagger in his other hand, throwing it at the other bandit. It caught him in the shoulder, which was enough of a distraction for Hawke to close the distance and impale him. As he tried to pull his sword from the man's torso, another arrow whizzed by his face. Hawke let go and retrieved his dagger, pulling another one from the bandit's belt. Another bandit was about twenty feet from Hawke and closing fast. Hawke noticed this one seemed the best equipped out of the five, which he assumed made him the leader. The man was wielding two daggers as well and wove them in a flurry as he approached Hawke. Hawke spun both of his daggers, taking a defensive reverse grip as he rose and charged the man. The first attack the bandit threw at him nearly severed his throat, causing Hawke to take a step back.

He couldn't afford a lengthy fight. Not now. Not when Merrill was potentially in danger. This had to end quickly.

The bandit moved to his left and attacked again, this time aiming to hamstring him. Hawke leapt over the attack, spinning in the air and bringing his armored shin down on the bandit's back. Both fell to the ground, but quickly recovered and rolled to their feet. Hawke maneuvered to keep the leader between himself and the remaining archer. He didn't want to take a chance that the bandit was crazy enough to fire at the dueling men...or did he?

The leader, obviously infuriated by being knocked down, was attacking wildly now. He swung his right arm at Hawke's face, trying to blind him and followed with a thrust of his left dagger aimed at Hawke's abdomen. Hawke deftly dodged the slash, then lunged forward and turned to the left, putting him past the range of the thrust, but leaving the leader wide open. He elbowed the man in the face with his right to disorient him and keep him from attacking as Hawke slashed the tendons in his forearm with the dagger in his left. The leader howled in pain and would have dropped the dagger in his hand if Hawke hadn't already taken it and tucked it into his belt. He had maneuvered so that his back was now to the archer. Anticipating the twang of his bow string, Hawke grabbed the leader's injured arm and spun him so he was back between himself and the archer.

His timing was perfect. Just as Hawke turned, he saw the archer loose and arrow and before he could blink, he heard the dull thud as the arrow struck the leader in the back and the tip protruded from his chest. Hawke released the man and whipped both daggers at the archer. He was still too far away to really hope one would hit, so he began to bound forward as he threw, reaching for the third blade he had grabbed off the leader as he closed the distance. As the daggers whirled towards the archer, he flinched and moved out of the way, smiling to himself as he heard his opponent's only weapons strike the stone behind him. As he grabbed an arrow from his quiver and nocked it, returning to his firing position, he realized how wrong he'd been. Hawke planted his foot on the stone of the crumbled wall and propelled himself straight towards the archer. The bandit made an attempt to fire, but Hawke was already upon him and swatted the bow from his hands as he drove the dagger into his neck. Hawke's momentum brought the man to the ground. Before he could fight back, Hawke pulled the dagger from his neck and finished the bandit with a thrust to his heart.

The life drained from the man's eyes and Hawke stood. He'd noticed something on the leader as he disarmed him. He turned around and walked towards his fallen enemy. The arrow had pierced his heart, killing him instantly. Hawke knelt before the lifeless man and grabbed his arm, bringing it up so he could see his hand. On his middle finger, he wore a wooden ring with what looked to Hawke like Elven carvings. He examined it and could make out a very detailed, but sinister-looking wolf. He imagined it may have some significance, so he took it. He retrieved his sword hurriedly and took off again toward the Elven encampment.

As he came around a bend in the path, the camp came into view. He made his way across the camp, hearing surprised chatter as he passed by. He looked for Merathari, hoping she had seen Merrill, but to no avail, she was nowhere to be found. He ran over to Master Ilen's table.

"Have you seen the Keeper? Or Merrill?" Hawke asked impatiently.

"Is something wrong, Hawke?" Ilen asked slowly, putting down a bow he'd been working on.

"Yes! Now have you seen either of them?" Hawke asked again, beginning to lose his temper.

"Merrill came through here a little while ago looking for the Keeper. Said she had to talk to her. The Keeper had gone up the mountain earlier, so Merrill went off after her. Haven't seen them since." he answered.

Hawke took off up the mountain path without a backwards glance. Merrill was in danger, he could feel it. He made his way up the mountain at a furious pace.

_I won't lose you too._

His heart pounded and his legs throbbed as he reached the entrance to the cave. He'd been there before with Merrill once. The very first time they'd met and gone up the mountain to deliver Flemeth's amulet. He'd wanted to explore the mountain paths further before returning to Kirkwall. They'd eventually made their way to the cave, but Merrill seemed off...well, more than usual. Now, he understood why. She'd mentioned the demon before and Hawke knew that it could only cause trouble.

He entered the cave and heard Merrill speaking to the Keeper.

"What...have you...done, Keeper?" Merrill slowly asked, a hint of fear in her voice.

"I did what I could. The demon's plan was always for you to finish the mirror. It was the gateway from his world into ours and you would have been his first victim. I...couldn't let that happen da'len." The Keeper said mournfully.

Hawke was edging around the corner of the old wall separating him from the main chamber, waiting to see where the conversation went.

"What did you do with him?" Merrill demanded indignantly.

"I could not defeat him in the fade, nor could I banish him without making him stronger, so I did the only thing I could...I made myself his prison." The Keeper looked up at Merrill. "Kill me and he dies too."

Merrill's expression turned from anger to shock and sorrow. "No...you can't...you can't ask me to." She stopped, bringing a hand to her face to wipe away her tears. "I won't do it." She quietly sobbed.

"Merrill, you always knew your blood magic had a price...and I have chosen to pay it for you." The Keeper stepped around Merrill, but stopped and jerked unnaturally as blue light engulfed her.

Hawke was down the stairs and between Merrill and the Keeper in the blink of an eye, sword drawn.

"Hawke?" Merrill cried out.

Hawke turned, but before he could say anything, the light dissipated and where the Keeper once was, now stood a massive demon. Hawke jumped back and pulled Merrill out of the way as it swung one of its huge arms at them. With Merrill at a safe distance, Hawke dashed towards the demon, sweeping his blade in a wide arc before him. The creature smashed one its fists into the ground, blocking his attack with the tough growth on its forearm. Hawke spun backwards out of the way of its counter-attack. He began to circle to the creature's left, creating some distance and putting its back to Merrill. Speaking of whom, why hadn't she attacked yet?

"TRAITOR! May the Dread Wolf hunt you for the rest of your days!" An apparition standing by one of the inlets screamed as she drew back her bow.

Merrill looked horrified, but managed to deflect the attack. "I'm so sorry Rahda." She said quietly as she fired a bolt of lightning from the end of her staff, causing the ghost to disappear in a flash of energy.

Hawke dashed forward again, anticipating the demon's wide swing, he dropped to his knees and slid across the stone floor just as its fist was about to crush him. As he slid beneath the demon, he lashed out with his sword, slashing the demon's inner leg. It roared in anger and pain.

"I was trying to rebuild my life! Why did you have to come back and destroy it?" yelled a familiar voice. Hawke looked over to see Pol, the poor, confused elf who'd run from Merrill and gotten himself killed by the Varterral. He then looked to Merrill. He remembered how awful she'd felt about his death.

"Pol...why did you have to run? Why were you so afraid of me?" Merrill sobbed.

Pol was readying an arrow.

Hawke sprinted towards the ghost. He knew Merrill felt responsible for his death. She wouldn't attack him. Hawke had no remorse. Pol was already dead. He was a ghost. And he was threatening the woman he loved. But as Hawke closed in, Pol spun towards him and fired. The ethereal arrow planted itself in Hawke's side. He was blind to the pain though and brought his sword down, returning Pol's ghost to rest once more. He winced as looked down. The arrow had disappeared, but the wound remained.

Merrill blasted the demon with fire from her staff. It raised its arms to cover itself and brought them down with a roar and a blast of energy that shook the cavern, throwing Merrill and Hawke off their feet.

More hunters began appearing and Hawke dispatched them as quickly as he could, silencing their venomous tongues. Then, a young elf he'd never seen before appeared.

"You've brought a curse upon yourself!" He yelled.

Merrill turned and looked at him. Her face dropped. "Tamlen?"

"This will follow you for the rest of your days!"

"I'm sorry Tamlen. I never should have brought you with me. You died because of my foolishness." Merrill cried softly.

Hawke dashed towards the demon to divert its attention from Merrill.

"You doomed us all!" Tamlen yelled, raising his bow.

Merrill lifted a chunk of the floor and hurled it, looking away with tears in her eyes as it struck the one ghost she felt most guilty about.

"Stop these illusions and fight us!" Hawke roared at the demon as he slashed wildly.

"Da'len stop this." The Keeper now appeared as a ghost. "Everything you touch turns to ash."

Merrill turned and shot a blast of fire at the ghost, sobbing.

Hawke roared and brought his blade down on the demon, severing one of its taloned fingers as it tried to block. The creature howled and curled up, before shooting back out, blasting Hawke and Merrill with a wave of energy. Hawke flew across the room and smashed into the altar, causing the statue to crumble. Merrill was thrown against the wall and knocked unconscious. Hawke regained his footing and leapt from the rubble. His armor had absorbed most of the impact. He saw Merrill and the demon starting towards her. He felt the familiar rush of blood. The rage building within him. He heard his heart pounding. His shallow breaths. Felt his muscles tense.

_Let me out!_

No. Hawke fought to contain the force within himself. He began to run towards the demon.

It stood over Merrill.

_UNLEASH ME!_

Hawke wouldn't give in. He was fighting to defend Merrill. He couldn't give in now. Not after that night at the mansion.

The demon reached down and lifted her by the throat.

_She'll die without me._

"NOOOO!" Hawke roared as he leapt into the air, sword over his head. He came down upon the demon like a force of nature. His sword cleaved through the bicep of the arm it held Merrill with, causing it to drop her. He landed and immediately whipped his sword around and brought it down across the back of the demon's leg, crippling it. The creature roared and whipped its arm into Hawke, sending him to the ground. It closed on him and began to absorb energy from the space around it. Hawke got to his feet and brought his sword back to slash at it again, but was stopped mid-swing. He couldn't move. There was a glow around him that kept him from moving any further. He felt the force begin to close in on him.

Not again.

He remembered what happened last time he was in a situation like this.

He pressed his hands against the invisible walls and tried to force them back out, but they only continued to collapse in on him. The demon was entirely focused on ending Hawke. There was a sick grin on its grotesque face. Hawke felt a jolt of pain and heard a sharp crack as his right forearm shattered. His vision blackened and he screamed in pain. He could feel his legs compressing. His body bending in ways it shouldn't. Suddenly, an inferno engulfed the demon. Hawke felt the magic dissipate and he fell to the ground. He looked up and saw Merrill standing, staff in hand, channeling a torrent of fire at the demon. It fell to the ground, charred, but alive. Suddenly blue light engulfed its form and shrank. The Keeper's form was visible once more. Hawke retrieved his sword with his good arm and got to his feet. Merrill approached the Keeper. Hawke came up behind her as the Keeper struggled to her feet.

"You've done it da'len. You've killed the demon." She said.

"Keeper...I..." Merrill stammered.

"You're...so much stronger than I thought. Let's leave this awful place." The Keeper grinned. "The clan should know about this."

Something was off. Hawke could tell.

"But...I thought-" Merrill was still shocked.

"I thought you said you had to die." Hawke said bluntly. "That the demon's life was bound to yours." He began to step forward, but Merrill put an arm out and stopped him.

She pulled the dagger from his belt.

The Keeper's expression turned to anger as she backed towards the destroyed altar. "You cannot kill me!" She roared in a voice that sounded like many tormented souls speaking simultaneously.

"Ir abelas, Keeper" Merrill said as she lunged forward, stabbing Merathari in the heart.

She cried out and fell to the ground. After a second, she opened her eyes and gasped, swirling strands of energy emanating from her body. She arched her back sickeningly and levitated for a few moments, screaming. Merrill looked away, hiding her face in Hawke's chest. He dropped his sword and put his arm around her. The Keeper finally stopped and the energy faded away. She was dead.

Merrill turned and fell to her knees beside the body. "Why? Why did you do it?" She began to cry. "Oh please let this be a dream, a horrible dream! I'll wake up and she'll scold me for being foolish." She stopped and looked down. "Why did you have to die like this?" She sobbed.

Hawke knelt beside her and put his arm around her shoulder. She didn't fight it. She simply continued to cry and fell into his embrace.

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><p>Horray! Chapter 9! Last chapter was a little less action-packed than usual, so I figured I'd bring it back full force with this chapter. As always, I love to hear what you think about it!<p> 


	11. Chapter 10

Yay! Chapter 10! And as promised, a special surprise for all you loyal and oh-so-patient readers!

ART! mrbeavis19 . deviantart . com/#/d4pbi1j (remove spaces... -_- stupid FF)

That's the first time I've ever done any painting, so just keep that in mind haha. Hope you like it and this shiny new chapter I wrote for all of you! :D

Also, if you've read Lyralocke's _Of Cream and Salt and Wild Strawberries_, a certain part of this might sound a little familiar. Couldn't help myself haha. If not, you should read it, Kataang fan or not, it's a cute story.

Ok, I'll stop rambling and let you get to the chapter.

Enjoy!

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><p>Chapter 10<p>

Hawke sat in the dimly lit cave, holding Merrill as close as he could with his uninjured arm. Her quiet crying eventually subsided, but she made no effort to stand or move away from Hawke. He gently stroked her arm, enjoying the closeness despite their situation. His right arm was limp at his side, shattered from the previous battle, but he didn't care. Merrill was safe.

For now.

Much as he would've liked to forget the problems of the outside world and just stay in this moment forever with her, Hawke knew they would have to go back outside...and the clan would not be happy when they found out what had happened.

"Merrill. I know this isn't what you want to hear right now, but we need to leave soon." Hawke said, rubbing her arm. "The Keeper is dead and the clan isn't exactly the most...understanding group I've ever met."

"Hawke?" She whispered, head still resting on the crimson cloth wrapped around his chestplate.

"Yeah?"

"Can you forgive me?" She looked up into his eyes.

Hawke returned her gaze. "The last few days have been the hardest of my life. I've never felt so lost. Merrill, you're my anchor and without you to keep me sane, I'd become a monster. I can't live without you." He smiled and leaned his head down. She arched her neck and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, bringing her lips up to meet his. He tightened his one-armed grip around her waist, savoring her taste. It was a mix of what he assumed was wildberries and mint. And her scent. A fresh breeze in a field of flowers. He was overtaken by an urge to hold on and never let go. He didn't want this to end.

He tried to convey all his emotions in that one kiss. After a few minutes, Merrill hadn't pulled away, in fact, she had put as much passion into the kiss as Hawke was. She ran her hands through his hair, stopping behind his head, pulling him even tighter against her. Hawke felt like she got his message, smiling inwardly to himself. When they finally came apart, Merrill looked at Hawke with a scrutinizing look.

"I don't think you'd make a very good monster." Merrill smiled and hugged him tight.

Hawke just smiled at her.

"You're too nice." She chimed. "And I don't imagine monsters taste like honey and cream...or smell like a rainstorm." She looked up, smiling and taking a deep breath. "I love you." She reached up and pecked him on the lips again.

Those three words had never sounded sweeter to Hawke. He also couldn't help but muse over her observations. Sometimes he was certain she could read his mind. He looked down into her eyes, those beautiful deep green eyes. "I love you too." He said with a grin and another kiss.

She pulled her head back and looked toward The Keeper as if she had just remembered, her expression changing to sadness and remorse. "I need to tell them what's happened. Someone needs to come...take care of her." Merrill said quietly, a few tears in her eyes.

"Let's go." Hawke said, letting go of Merrill and grabbing his sword to prop himself up. He grimaced as he picked himself up off the ground, his right arm shifting. He felt he might pass out if he moved too quickly. He took a deep breath and managed to get to his feet.

"Let me have a look." Merrill cooed as she reached for his arm. The gauntlet held the forearm mostly in place, but moving it still hurt. "I'm sorry Hawke, but I'm going to have to take the gauntlet off to get a better look." Merrill said, her face expressing her discomfort with causing him more pain.

"Do what you have to." Hawke said as he grabbed one of the leather straps of his shoulder armor and bit down on it.

Merrill unstrapped the gauntlet and removed it and the mail beneath it as quickly and smoothly as she could. Hawke grunted in pain as the mail slid off. Merrill looked down with an expression of mild horror as she saw the bone protruding from Hawke's arm. Hawke remembered Anders having to set his ribs when he broke them, so he knew what was coming. He closed his eyes and ground his teeth into the leather. Merrill looked up, a sort of apologetic remorse in her eyes. Hawke nodded to her and she gave his wrist a quick tug and the bone returned to its place beneath the skin. Hawke let out a muffled roar as his broken bones ground together in his arm.

"Shhhh its ok...I'll take care of you" Merrill said gently, reaching up and stroking Hawke's cheek. She returned to work, her hands beginning to glow like Anders's as she held them over Hawke's forearm. Hawke could feel the bones fusing back together as Merrill worked. The sharp pains eventually subsided and were replaced with a dull ache. Hawke looked down to see the wound closed and his arm straightened, looking good as new.

He leaned down and kissed Merrill. "I love that you know how to do that."

"And I love that you didn't make a fuss about me helping you this time." Merrill smirked as she handed Hawke his mail and gauntlet.

Hawke just grinned and put his armor back in place. He grabbed his sword and sheathed it on his back. He turned and put his arm around Merrill, leading her out of the cave. As they reached the steps, Merrill spared a final backwards glance at Marethari before they left.

The sun shone down as the couple exited the cave. The rays of light, partially obscured by the peaks of Sundermount, cast an odd shadow over the cave's entrance. Hawke stepped out and admired the stark contrast between the two halves of the ground outside the cave, split almost perfectly between light and dark. There was no boundary between the two, merely the jagged edges where they met, matched up perfectly to one another, like two pieces of a puzzle. As the sun continued its slow descent to the horizon, Hawke noticed the shadow of the mountain growing. Darkness pushing back the light as its source slowly vanished. He turned to look at Merrill. She smiled up at him lovingly and he couldn't help smiling back.

_He still had his source._

"Where is Marethari?"

Hawke's attention shot to the group of well-armed elves approaching them from the mountain path.

"Fenarel-" Merrill began.

"We know she came up here with you, where is she?" He demanded, taking a few steps towards the cave, looking back and forth between it and Merrill.

"Just look at her, she's covered in blood." an elven woman standing at the head of the group by the path sneered.

"What have you done Merrill? Where is The Keeper?" Fenarel's voice lowered, his gaze focused murderously upon her. He took a step and began to reach for his sword.

In a flash, the tip of Hawke's greatsword was against his throat. The elf looked up at him, furiously, as if daring him to kill him. If Merrill hadn't been there, he probably would have, but he kept his cool, staring at the elf and merely shaking his head, betraying none of the anger slowly beginning to boil within him. It _was_Marethari's fault she was dead. Hawke was still silently grateful that Merrill hadn't been able to deal with the demon, or "become its first victim", but Marethari had brought her death upon herself.

"She's dead." Merrill whimpered, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.

She had chosen to die. And Hawke could already tell these elves had come, suspicious and ready to fight. Regardless of what had happened in there, Marethari's willful death or no, Hawke knew they would have a fight on their hands.

The elf woman's face contorted in anger. "I should have known you'd turn on her, you...monster!" She spat, drawing her daggers.

"She turned into a demon." Hawke said calmly, his eyes still fixed on Fenarel. "I'd say that adds her to the list of things that are okay to kill, wouldn't you?"

"There never would have been a demon if it weren't for this flat-eared bitch!" The woman screamed.

The other elves drew their weapons. Fenarel began to circle away from Merrill and the cave, Hawke's blade still at his throat, until his back was to his companions. "We've suffered enough because of this traitor." Right as the words left his mouth, he jumped back and struck the flat of the sword, knocking it away from him and giving him a chance to draw his own sword and shield.

Hawke stepped in front of Merrill, sword pointed. He just got her back and he'd be damned if these fools were going to take her away from him.

Fenarel glared at Hawke and surged forward. Hawke swept his blade diagonally, aiming for the elf's sword arm. Fenarel smashed his shield against the greatsword, stopping the attack and leaving Hawke open. As Fenarel brought his sword back to swing, Hawke turned to him and delivered a straight kick to his chest, sending him stumbling backwards. Hawke took advantage and cleaved at Fenarel again. The elf was quick to regain his footing though and got his shield up in time to parry the blow.

The elven woman went to attack Hawke, but as she went to jump down from the ledge, she found her feet bound by thorny vines, shooting from the ground and encircling her. She cried out as they tore at any skin unprotected by her leather armor and began hacking away with her daggers. Merrill, having temporarily incapacitated the woman, turned her attention to the hunters, readying their bows. She whirled her staff over her head, then brought it into the ground, sending a tremor through the ground up towards the hunters. As it neared them, three columns of earth shot from the ground and smashed each of them in the torso, breaking a few ribs and sending them to the ground. As she turned to assist Hawke, she felt a shift in the air behind her, followed by a sharp pinch. She looked down and saw the tip of a dagger protruding from her shoulder. The pain struck her like a white-hot lance. She cried out in agony and fell to the ground, clutching her shoulder.

Hawke smashed Fenarel in the face with the hilt of his sword and turned around to see an elf woman with silver hair plunge a dagger into Merrill's shoulder blade. He roared in anger and spun around, sword outstretched. Fenarel, charging at Hawke again, just as expected caught the brunt of the blow on his shield. The wooden shield, made of Ilen's famed ironbark, shattered into pieces, sending shrapnel flying. One piece caught an approaching Dalish warrior in the eye, blinding him as he fell to the ground, screaming in pain. Hawke felt the bones in Fenarel's forearm shatter as the sword smashed into the shield. To the warrior's credit, he barely cried out in pain before lunging at Hawke again. Hawke had no time to admire his bravery though. As the sword came at his face, Hawke brought the hilt of his sword up past his head, leaving the tip dragging on the ground. As Fenarel's attack glanced off his sword, Hawke slashed upwards, catching the underside of Fenarel's sword arm. As he stumbled forward, dropping his sword to the ground, Hawke slashed the back of his knees. Fenarel collapsed to the ground, unable to move his arms or legs. Hawke turned and hurled his sword at the woman about to plunge her dagger into Merrill's back again and finish her off.

Merrill looked up to see Hawke's sword whirling towards her...and the grimace of rage that she unmistakably recognized upon Hawke's face. Here she lay, on the ground, bleeding...again. And because of her, Hawke just might lose it again. He couldn't stand to see her injured. Just as she couldn't bear to see him in pain. She understood that. He loved her. And she loved him. She just hated to be the reason he lost control and allowed whatever horrible force it was within him to take over. That he needed to hurt himself in order to save her. She shed a tear and looked up at him again, expecting something to happen any second now. She hadn't seen him when he was in that state before, so she wasn't sure what she was looking for. The one time he told her it had happened, she'd been unconscious. Would his eyes glow? Would he turn into some big monster? Would there be any sort of magic surrounding him? She heard a sickening crunch behind her and she imagined that whoever had stabbed her no longer drew breath. But as she looked up at him, all she saw was...Hawke, his face turning instantly from rage to concern as she saw him look down at her and start running to her side. No glowing, no monster, no magic, just Hawke.

He slid to the ground by her side, wrapping his arms around her. "Merrill!" He could feel her breathing and heard a weak groan of pain as she reached up to touch his face.

"You're...still you." She said, between labored breaths.

Hawke smiled down at her. Here she was, stabbed in the back and bleeding and she had been worried about him. A tear rolled down his cheek and he held her closer, kissing her on the forehead. "I'm still me."

He looked at the wound in her shoulder. It was about two inches wide, through and through. "Can you fix this yourself or do you need my help?" He asked her, concern growing as he saw the pool of blood where she had been doubled over.

"I...I think I can close the wound" She reached to her shoulder and her hand glowed, sealing the skin and stopping the bleeding, but the skin looked dark and purple like she had a nasty bruise. "I'll need Ander's help to fix the muscle and bone though. I'm too tired." She grimaced as she tried to move her arm.

Hawke helped her to her feet and retrieved his sword. She looked over, expecting a corpse, but was surprised to see the elf woman laying on the ground, clutching her jaw, moaning in pain. At her quizzical expression, Hawke tapped the hilt of his sword. She didn't know if it was intentional or not, but she was glad he hadn't killed any of her clan. She smiled at him.

Hawke sheathed his sword and put his arm around her. They walked past the groaning warriors and made their way down the mountain path to the Dalish camp. As they came to the bottom, Hawke saw Ilen and the others gathered around, speaking to one another in a frenzy. They sounded angry. And as Hawke and Merrill got closer, he realized they were all armed.

"You!" Ilen yelled, turning and marching towards them, the angry elven mob at his heels.

Hawke continued walking right up to the group, stopping a few feet from Ilen, his arm still around Merrill's waist. "Can I help you?"

Ilen glared at him then turned his attention to Merrill. "Where's the Keeper?" He demanded.

"Ilen, she...I...we had to-"

"Spit it out! Where is she? Where are the others we sent to find you?" Ilen barked.

"_Find _us? Are you sure that's all you told them to do?" Hawke's cold gaze set on Ilen.

"What? They tried to...then that means..." Ilen trailed off, then seemed to snap back into it, drawing his sword and shield. "WHAT DID YOU DO?" He yelled at Merrill.

"I didn't mean to-" Merrill said meekly.

Ilen roared and lunged forward, but before he knew what hit him, Hawke's fist had smashed into his face, knocking him to the ground. Hawke reached down and grabbed him by the throat, lifting him into the air. Hawke kept his grip just tight enough to keep him quiet, but loose enough to allow him the oxygen he needed to stay conscious.

"Merrill freed me from my prison! That foolish old elf tried to stop me!" Hawke roared, trying to sound as possessed as he possibly could. "Your Keeper is dead!" he bellowed. "Your hunters are dead! And unless all of you wish to die, you will lay down your arms! And if you know what's good for you, you will collect your dead and leave! You will leave this place far behind! And you will never return!" Hawke maintained his grip on Ilen, hoping his bluff had been convincing enough. He saw fear in their eyes, but they hadn't dropped their weapons. Hawke smashed Ilen into the ground, keeping a hand on his throat. "Drop your weapons or I'll tear him to pieces!" Ilen let out a choked cough and a groan. Slowly the elves began to place their weapons on the ground. Hawke released Ilen, who grabbed his neck and rolled over coughing and gasping for breath.

Hawke took Merrill's hand and lead her through the group, keeping a scowl on his face. As they reached the outskirts of the camp. Merrill turned back to look at her former clan one last time. "Why did you do that?" She asked, looking up at Hawke.

"I didn't want to hurt anyone else." Hawke said simply. "Ilen will be fine, they'll go up and gather the hunters, and hopefully, they'll leave." He looked across the camp to the group of elves as they gathered around Ilen. "They're misguided, not evil. They didn't deserve to die." He looked back at Merrill.

"Thank you." She said, standing on her tiptoes and kissing him.

"No, thank you. Without you there, I might have killed them all. You kept the monster at bay." He said, smiling at her.

She smiled back, happy she was now also the deterrent for his darkness and not just the trigger. She hugged him and they began walking back to Kirkwall.

"Let's go get you fixed up."


	12. Chapter 11

New chapter! *Fireworks*

...kinda short though. *Dodges tomatoes and various other produce items being thrown*

Ummm, so yeah remember that M rating? Kinda figured I wasn't straying into that territory enough to really earn the rating. Tried something a little new this chapter. It's short because I want to gauge your reactions before continuing, so be sure to review and give me your thoughts on it! :D

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><p>Chapter 11<p>

Hawke and Merrill spilled through the front door like a silent storm. Neither wanting to wake Sandal or Bodahn. Entwined tightly in each other's arms. Lips pressed tight. It was past midnight now. They had made the long hike back from Sundermount, reaching the lower wards of Kirkwall and Ander's clinic a couple hours after nightfall. A flustered and tired Anders had spent an hour or two fixing up Merrill's back, Hawke had lost track of time. They'd left the clinic and started their walk back, but Hawke realized he didn't yet know where. Was Merrill ready to just move back in with him and resume things as they'd been? As if nothing had happened? He wanted nothing more, but didn't think it wise to push his luck. Even before their little fight she'd only moved clothes and the flower into his home. He noticed her shifting her glance from him to the ground and tried to think of a way to ask.

"So..." Hawke trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck.

Merrill glanced up at him, a nervous smile on her face. "Sooo..."

They reached the lift and stopped, unsure which level they were going to.

Hawke coughed a little. "Uhhh, so where were you...gonna..." he stopped when he felt her hand in his.

"It's a little cold to be alone tonight, don't you think?" She said, giving him a sly grin.

"Then you'll have to spend the night someplace warm." Hawke returned her devilish grin, taking her in his arms and kicking the lift's lever.

"I was hoping you'd say that." She said, closing the distance between them, wrapping her arms around his neck and locking her lips with his as the lift ascended into Hightown.

They separated as the lift stopped and walked hurriedly to Hawke's estate. Hawke reached the door first and fumbled with his keys, dropping them for a minute as Merrill passionately crashed against him once again, pressing her lips to his and running her hands through his hair. His heart pounding in his chest, he swooped down, grabbing the keys. He turned and lifted Merrill against the door, never breaking their kiss. With his free hand he turned the key in the lock and opened the door as quietly as he could, holding Merrill in his other arm. He closed the door and dropped the keys on the carpet. The stalling at the door had been enough.

They had..."catching up" to do and Hawke couldn't wait any longer. They'd never make it to the bedroom. He looked around the main hall through the corners of his eyes. He spotted the rug before the hearth, illuminated by the low flame within the fireplace. He made his way across the room and only strengthening his belief she could read his mind, Merrill began unstrapping his armor. He smiled against her lips and felt her do the same. He opened his eyes and set her down, only breaking contact to remove his armor quickly and set it aside. Merrill had removed her tabard and embraced Hawke again, removing his shirt before letting him untie the back of her chainmail. As the thin metal links slid to the floor, the pounding in Hawke's chest intensified. Her gorgeous, athletic form never failed to take his breath away. He'd missed her so much. She reached down and untied the drawstring of his pants and tugged them down along with his underwear as he stepped out of them and removed the thin undergarments she wore. He drank in the beautiful woman before him like fine wine, admiring the soft curves of her body before lifting her in his arms and kissing her fervently.

She traced the muscles of his back and shoulders with her slender fingers, as he felt the soft, warm skin of her breasts against his chest. The smooth skin at the curves of her waist as he lowered her to the rug. She ran her fingers up through his hair, pulling his head in closer to hers, their tongues mingling. Then, the tempo changed. The orchestral crescendo calmed to a slow, intimate piano piece. Hawke, poised above Merrill, raised a gentle hand to her cheek and stroked it lovingly, slowly pulling back from the kiss. He smiled softly, his eyebrows lifting slightly as her hand came up to press his against her cheek. She loved him so much. She was always taken with what a gentleman he was. Even in the heat of the moment, in such a passion as they had entered, he stopped and looked to her, as if to ask permission. She smiled and wrapped her legs around his hips, nudging him closer. She put her arms around his neck and pulled his head down next to hers.

"I love you." She whispered in his ear, snuggling her face against the side of his head. "So much."

He sighed happily, kissing her passionately and gently pushing his hips forward. She let out a small gasp of pleasure and gripped the back of his neck, staring into his eyes. He continued. Slowly at first, but with increasing speed and fervor as the minutes passed. His forehead pressed against hers, both of them beginning to glisten with sweat. She would moan and he would slow for a second, unsure of whether it was pain or pleasure...until she'd thrust her hips off the floor and against him. He'd smile and resume, having gotten the message. Both felt their labored breaths quicken and their hearts race. Their eyes met and they smiled knowingly at one another. He felt the fire growing within him as gazed into her heavy-lidded eyes. They both let out gasping moan and like that, it was done. Her arched back and neck returned to the floor and he nearly collapsed onto her. She sighed contentedly, tightened her embrace, and gently pulled his head into the crook of her neck. He lightly kissed the moist skin of her neck and smiled at the soft giggle it produced.

"You're amazing." He whispered.

She stroked his hair and kissed his temple. "So are you."

Hawke laid his back on the rug, putting an arm around Merrill as she made herself comfortable, resting her head on his chest.

"Comfortable rug isn't it?" Hawke said with a chuckle.

"A wonder we've never done that before." Merrill replied, smiling up at him.

"Figured some place warm would be best, it being 'too cold to be alone tonight'." Hawke said with a grin, quoting Merrill.

"Mmmm it is nice and warm isn't it?" She said, snuggling against his chest.

Before Hawke could get comfortable and fall asleep right then and there, he thought of something. "Hold that thought." He said, kissing her on the forehead and slowly sitting up. He got up and ran over to a cupboard, returning a moment later with a blanket.

Merrill looked at him and laughed a little as he got back on the rug and laid the blanket over them, returning to his back. "So we're sleeping here now?" She asked slyly.

"Mmhmm." He hummed in affirmation, wrapping an arm around her.

Merrill sighed a little...the way she did when she wanted to say something. "I'm sorry I left." She said suddenly.

Hawke furrowed his brow a bit and turned off his back so they were facing each other, but let her continue.

"I just couldn't bear to think I was hurting you. Even if I didn't mean to. I thought by staying, I was only making it worse." She looked down a little.

Hawke slipped his other arm around her waist and gently pulled her closer. "It's okay Merrill. Everything is right again." He smiled at her.

"I know. It's just...I want you to understand why I left. It was only because I love you." She wrapped her arms around his neck and put her head beside his. "I don't want you to have any doubts about that. You are Ma Vhenan. Always."

Hawke tightened his embrace and kissed her lightly. "Thank you. That means everything to me." She looked up at him and smiled before tightening her embrace and snuggling against his chest. He turned to his back so they could get comfortable.

After a few minutes, Hawke heard Merrill's breaths slow. The steady rhythm of her breathing a lullaby to him, letting him know she was right there. That she was safe. She was with him. And he knew he'd never let go as long as he drew breath. That this was just where they were meant to be. Together.

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><p>*Crickets*<p>

Uhhh hehe yeah that stuff. Hopefully I was able to pull this off as I intended; with class. I don't want to write a smut fic. That's not what this is all about. It's a Romantic Action-Adventure and I wanted to keep it classy.

Notice, I did not use any explicit words during any of that (well, I guess if you count "breasts" lol), so if you thought this was dirty, blame your imagination, not me! :P

Tried to keep it simple and suggestive, but hopefully to the desired effect. :)

Reviews, flames, whatever! Bring it on! :D


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